The First Step
by Beverly McIntyre
Summary: The first Broken Palisades story. After Operation: Zero Tolerance the X-Men had hit a new low. While trying to pull some sembalance of their lives back together, a mysterious stranger shows up with an old member of the X-Men and a message from Xavier. Now
1. The Hardest Move to Make

Disclaimer: The X-Men and affiliated people belong to Marvel. Dakota is belongs entirely to me (or I belong entirely to him, I can never remember that part). I am using the X-Men without Marvel's permission. I am making no money for writing this so, do not sue me (cuz I ain't got no money, no money). 

Note: All these events take place after Uncanny X-Men #351/X-Men #71. I am also shooting straight from the hip so, I have no idea if this will turn violent in between planned events. This is the basic introduction of Dakota to the X-Men. Feedback is welcome. 

_italics_ denote thought 

**bold** denotes an action that causes sound (How else am I going to explain it?) 

* * *

The First Step - Part 1  
Beverly McIntyre

A black cargo van pulled up in front of Xavier's Institute For Higher Learning. It rolled to a stop in front of the mansion that was supposed to be a school. The driver cut off the engine and threw the parking brake on. He leaned forward, over the steering wheel to get a better look at the building. It looked like it had just been through a minor war. 

"Are you sure this is the place?" the driver asked the passenger sitting to his right. He glanced over at his friend. The passenger, for his part, leaned back into his plush seat. 

"Of course, I'm sure. Where else would it be?" The passenger gestured at the mansion with a four-fingered hand. "Besides, didn't you see the sign back there?" 

"Yeah, I saw the sign, but I was too busy to pay attention to it. This place looks a little beat up. Y'know, maybe we should come back after they finish up the repairs." The driver's brown eyes looked at the ragged holes in the side of the building. 

"You're not afraid, are you?" The passenger tried to hide his smile. 

"I'm not afraid, just concerned. This could be a bad time just to suddenly drop into their lives. I mean I'm not so sure anymore why I came up here." The driver sighed as he leaned back into his seat. 

"You came up here to be an X-Man." 

"No. Not exactly." _I came up here as a favor to Chuckles._

"Close enough. Now are you going to go up there, or do I have to go do this for you?" The driver looked over at his friend, clearly annoyed. He looked right into his friend's light blue eyes and said... 

"I'm going. I'm going. But first, how do I look?" The passenger looked at his friend with mock scrutiny. He imitated his friend's mannerism when thinking hard about something. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 

The driver sat in his seat, patiently waiting for his friend's judgement. He watched as the passenger looked from his short, black hair to his button down shirt to his best pair of blue jeans to his most comfortable pair of boots. 

"Nope. They couldn't tell you're from the Midwest." 

"I wasn't asking for a regional forecast. I was asking if this was all right for a first meeting with the X-Men." 

"Well, then you should be fine. As long as you don't try to kill them or something, they should like you just fine. Although..." 

"Although what?" 

"Maybe you should wear a suit or something if you want to impress them." His friend shrugged. 

"If you want to go dig my one and only suit out of that mess back there, I'll do it." He hooked his thumb to the boxes of his belongings in the back of the van. "But you know, maybe I shouldn't be asking fashion advice from a guy who wears black leather all the time." 

"Maybe not. But you're stalling." 

"I'm not stalling. I'm going." The driver opened his door. "Now, wait for me in here. I don't want you wandering around here even if the people who live here know you. Wish me luck." 

"I don't have to. When I'm around, you've got all the luck you need." The driver rolled his eyes and began to shut the door. "But Dakota, good luck anyway." 

"Thanks" ,Dakota managed to get out before the door shut all the way. _Now, here comes the hard part: acceptance._

Dakota turned away from the van and took a deep breath. He had no idea why he was doing this. He had turned Xavier down so many times before this. Why had he said yes this time? Maybe it was the sanitized paper that the letter had came on. Or the code the letter had been written in that let Dakota know that Xavier really needed his help this time. But for some reason, he was now walking towards Xavier's Institute For Higher Learning. 

He mounted the steps with ease but paused in front of the door. Was he really doing the right thing? Did these people really need his help as much as Xavier said they did? He looked over his shoulder at his friend. His friend gave an eager thumbs up. _Well, here goes nothing._

**Knock, knock, knock** As he knocked, he remembered he left his jacket back in the van. He thought about running back and getting it when he realized he wasn't really all that cold. It was near the end of December and the temperatures were Spring-like. _Must be Storm using her powers._

When the door started to open in front of him, he straightened up and self-consciously smoothed out the front of his shirt. When Sam Guthrie answered the door, he almost sighed in relief. Xavier's file on him was one of the most comprehensive, next to those of the five original X-Men. With Dakota having read all of Xavier's files before coming up to New York, he felt he could at least get somewhere with this kid. _Least Chuckles was smart enough to send me a copy of every file as the absolutely last-ditch effort to stay ahead of the game. Smart enough to not tell anyone either. I couldn't deal with all those 'government hounds' breathing down my neck to see that stuff._

"Hello Mr. Guthrie, I'm looking for Scott Summers. Is he here?"

Sam looked a little confused at a total stranger knowing by name. "I'm sorry, sah. He left jus' yesterday." _Oookay, this isn't going like planned._

Behind Sam, Dakota could here the sound of hand saws sawing and nails being hammered in. 

"Okay, then is Ororo Monroe here?" 

Sam looked totally unsure of what to say. 

"Samuel, who is at the door?" _That regal sounding voice has got to be her._

"This guy here's lookin' for yah or Scott." Sam visibly winced when he realized he had just thrown away his chance to get more information out of Dakota before he let him in. _He has to let me in now to speak with her, or he would seem awfully rude. And Southern hospitality just won't let him do that._

"Then let him in." Sam opened the door up the rest of the way and stood aside to let Dakota through. _Well, here goes nothing._ Dakota stepped through the doorway. 

On the other side, he was greeted by a stately woman. Of course, it was hard to look stately in grubby clothing, but she had somehow managed to pull it off. _Her file pictures do her no justice._

"Welcome to Xavier's Institute For Higher Learning, Mr. ..." 

"Dakota", he supplied for her. 

"Mr. Dakota. I'm Ororo Monroe. How can I be of assistance?" 

"I need to speak with you privately on a matter dealing with Professor Charles Xavier." There came a low, barely audible gasp from behind Dakota. Apparently, after Sam had shut the door behind Dakota he had stuck around to make sure things were not going to explode into an attack. Storm, for her part, nodded gravely. 

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Dakota." 


	2. C'mon, You Can Trust Me

Disclaimer: Most of the characters in this story belong to Marvel and I'm using them without their permission. I am making no money for writing this. Dakota's mine. 

Note: This story starts after UXM#351/XM#71 and then starts to differ from the Marvel Universe from there. 

Feedback can be sent to bkittle@creighton.edu (I forgot to put that last time didn't I?) 

* * *

The First Step - Part Two   
Beverly McIntyre

Storm shut the door behind her. She felt that if this man had any news about the whereabouts of Xavier, she had better be the only one to hear it. That would give her time to think through the plausibility of the information before deciding what to do. Some of her more impulsive teammates, like Rogue or Wolverine, would act upon the information first before thinking a plan all the way through. They also would not try to figure out if it's a trap before they were in the midst of it. Storm could not afford to lose anyone when things were running so low for the team. 

She looked at the man who appeared to be sizing up the room. He stood over six feet tall with broad shoulders and a tight, muscular frame. His short, black hair was neatly combed back. He had warm, brown eyes set into a finely chiseled face. His lightly copper-toned skin and slightly high cheekbones signaled his Native American roots. 

"Well," Dakota began, interrupting Storm's observation. "this place is a lot emptier than the last time I was here. You guys doing some heavy-duty spring-cleaning or something?" 

He turned to face her, brown eyes flashing with curiousity. 

"You could say that",Storm said neutrally. She did not know who this man was, and she was not going to let on about the devastation Bastion had wreaked upon them, or signal any of the team's vulnerability. He just smiled. "What information do you have on the Professor, Mr. Dakota?" 

"It's not Mr. Dakota. Just plain Dakota. I don't like any titles added to my name." He said as he dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rumpled and folded piece of paper. He handed it over to her. "I got this from your Professor a couple days ago." 

Storm had to keep herself from snatching the paper out of his hand. If this note was truly from the Professor, it would be the first sign the X-Men had that he was still on the face of the planet. She carefully unfolded the paper and smoothed it out. She noticed her hands trembled slightly during the process. She cast a furtive glance at Dakota to see if he had noticed, but he had started to look around the room once more. She gratefully looked back at the note. After a few minutes, she looked up from the note. 

"This is indeed the Professor's handwriting, but it's written in some sort of code I can't make out." Dakota stopped his inspection of the surroundings and looked back at Storm. 

"So, that is Xavier's handwriting?" Storm nodded uncertainly. She thought this man knew the message was from the Professor. "All right then," He reached into his back pocket and pulled out another rumpled and folded note. "this is the translation." 

Storm hesitantly took the piece of paper, not quite sure of what this man was up to. As she unfolded the piece of paper, Dakota's head snapped up to look at the door to the room. Storm stopped smoothing the paper out and watched as he moved towards the door. He moved like a wraith, moving so quiet that Storm thought the only sound in the room was her breathing. He stopped right in front of the door. 

"Is there-" Dakota held up a hand for silence; Storm bit back the question, curious what he was up to. He crouched down in front of the door and balled up both fists. He held his fists over two distinct spots on the door. He paused for a second, tilting his head to the side as if to hear something better. Abruptly, he knocked once, very loudly, on the two spots he held his fists over. Storm raised an eyebrow at the man's odd behavior. 

Dakota stood up and opened the door. Standing in front of him, rubbing their aching ears, were Cannonball and Iceman. Both looked quite sheepishly at Storm, having just been caught listening in on an important conversation. Storm sighed at how pitiful both men looked. 

"Samuel, Robert, when a man asks to speak with me privately, I expect the courtesy to be extended to him. Not impinged upon by you two." Bobby and Sam exchanged a glance. 

"But Sam said this guy had some information on the Professor. We wanted to make sure this guy was legit." Dakota looked amused. An easy grin had spread across his face. 

"So, you figured eavesdropping was a good way to see if I'm legit?" Dakota asked with mock-indignation. 

"Well, no. We had ta make sure yer weren't gonna do any harm ta Storm." Sam got a strong jab in the ribs from Bobby's elbow. Storm looked entirely unamused. While both of them meant well, Bobby and Sam were probably costing her the trust she needed from Dakota for him to give her all of whatever information he had. She was about to admonish both of them when Dakota spoke up. 

"You were worried about me doing her harm when she can call up a whirlwind to toss me across the room, fry me with lightning, or beat me senseless with hailstones the size of footballs? Either you SERIOUSLY underestimate your leader's power, or I seem like like such a menace that her powers alone won't stop me." Dakota paused and looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin. "I hope it's the second one 'cause no one's thought that way about me for years. Now, go back to the other X-Men and tell them Ms. Monroe is fine and can take care of herself, and she'll dispense the pertinent information later." 

As Dakota shut the door, Sam asked Bobby how did this guy know that the other X-Men were waiting to hear what they learned. Dakota just shook his head and laughed. 

"How did you know they were there?" Storm was a bit intrigued by this man now. He shrugged as he walked back over to her. 

"First, the house got real quite. Everybody could have been taking a lunch break, but it's a bit too early for that. Second, Cannonball gasped when I said I had some information for you on the Professor earlier. Thirdly, if those to want to listen in, they should stop whispering to each other so much. Now, do you want me to verify the accuracy of the translated message?" Storm looked at him quizzically. "Well, it would be the first thing I'd do. Anyway, the person who translated is...**sigh**...no longer sitting in the van." 

"Is there a problem?" 

"Yes. I really should staple his butt to the seat. Would you help me go find my wandering friend? He'll get into more trouble than I care to think about walking around here." Storm looked down at the notes in her hand. "Oh, um... if you help me find my friend out there, I'll... I'll get this place some furniture or something." 

Storm refolded the notes and placed them in one of her pockets. "I appriciate your offer, Dakota, but I do not think we need your assistance at this time. Now what does your friend look like?" 

Dakota started for the door. "Trust me, you know him already. He kinda stands out." He opened the door and held it open for her. "I believe you're old friends with him." 


	3. Enter Trouble

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men are property of Marvel Comics, and I am using them without Marvel's permission. I am making no money from this, so it would be pointless to sue me for something I don't have. Dakota and the spangly new villain team introduced are mine. Mine! Mine! [Mwa ha ha!] 

**bold** a sounding action 

_italics_ what somebody's thinking 

Note: This probably gets violent from here on out, so people who are bothered by such things, I suggest close your eyes and cover your ears at those parts. But if that doesn't work, then just don't read it. I won't be offended. Honest. 

WARNING!!: This gets violent. Just in case you skipped the Note. If you did go back and read it. Go on. Read it. You done? Good. I also suggest somethings sexually in few spots. I think they're pretty mild but then again, I'm not you, the beloved reader. 

* * *

The First Step - Part 3   
Beverly McIntyre

Warren Worthington and Betsy Braddock lounged quietly on the bear-skin rug, enjoying each other's company. The roaring fire licked them with warmth as they sipped their champagne. Betsy cuddled into Warren's side in a rare moment of contentment. Things were just starting to settle down after the return from Antarctica. Life seemed to be heading back toward the blissfully mundane. But that sense of peace was about to be shattered. Unbeknownst to the two lovers, several pairs of malevolent eyes watched them balefully. 

"Awwww, doesn't that make yer heart just wanna pop?" **Ch-click.** "They're bein' all cute an' lovey-dovey." A small, wiry man lowered the barrel of his rifle at the two blissfully ignorant people. He sighted up the back of the woman's head in his scope. He was just about to squeeze the trigger when the rifle was snatched out of his hands. 

"What the 'ell are y'doing?" The man, codenamed Shadow, turned toward the woman who now had his high-powered rifle in her hands. He looked her up and down with a sneer. Her bluish-silver eyes were narrowed in anger. "Y'know we're not supposed t'kill them right away. We go in there an' hold 'em down 'til their teammates arrive." 

"Lissen, I'm a sniper. I don't go in anywhere, Lash. I sit back an' splatter people's brains out from a distance. Fade into the woodwork an' I'm gone." Shadow nervously ran his fingers through his cropped, brown hair. "'Sides, these X-Men we're supposed to be waitin' for, well, some of them can toss around Buicks like they're nothin'. I say I snipe the two lovebirds an' we move on." 

"That's why I lead. I've got more foresight than you'll ever 'ave. If I didn't need you t' cover our backs..." She shifted the rifle so she held it in one hand. The palm of her free hand split open. There was a nausiating sound as a whip brushed through the opening and produced itself in her hand. It immediately started to glow a faint white. 

Shadow looked at the whip, worried. He knew she had no problems with using that electrified whip on him. She probably would enjoy doing it, too. Lash was the leader of the Destruction Crew through sheer brutality alone. She would beat anyone down who got in her way. _Who'm I kiddin'. She'd kill anyone who got in her way._

"Lash, power down." The calm command came from over Lash's shoulder. A tall, dark-haired man stood behind her with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

"Don't start orderin' me 'round, Psion." Lash did not turn toward him. 

"Very well. Then when Angel and Psylocke notice a faint white glow, they won't be surprised when we launch ourselves over there." Shadow looked from Psion to Lash and back again. These two did not like each other at all. Psion was often trying to position himself to become the leader, a post that Lash held onto tenaciously. 

"'Ere." Lash serenely held the rifle back out to Shadow. He snatched it out of her hands and glowered at her. "Remember. Don't fire on either o' 'em 'til we're int' position. Understood?" Shadow nodded uncertainly as she turned toward Psion. Lash had never acted serenely before, ever. "Now, Psion, is Tech in place?" 

Psion got a far away look in his eyes. "She'll be ready in five minutes." 

"Good. Now go get the Elementals up 'ere. Let's get ready t'move." As Psion moved away without a word, she powered down her whip. (That bloody fool doesn't think this plan will work. It'll work. I leaked the information to Blackhorse Inc. personally. The information will get to Dakota. He'll contact the X-Men. The Destruction Crew will kill them when they come to rescue their fellow teammates. Can't have those X-Men goodie-two-shoes mucking up our future conquests now can we?) 

"Lash, is this really gonna work? I mean we've all read the files on these X-Men. They've beaten teams like the Marauders and Brotherhood of Evil Mutants time and time again. What makes you think we'll do any better?" Lash turned to him and the sereness was gone. Her eyes blazed with anger. Shadow was almost relieved she was back to her old self, except for the fact she was angry at him. 

"We'll succeed where those dolts failed 'cause we now these X-Men inside an' out. We know their powers an' personalities. We're not goin' t' underestimate 'em. We're going t' destroy them." 

* * *

Dakota poked his head in the van. His friend wasn't in the back searching through the boxes as he had hoped. Wanderlust had struck his friend at the most inopportune time. Dakota slammed the van door shut. 

"Great. Just what I need." He looked over his shoulder at Storm who was waiting patiently. "I'm sorry for this. I should have known better than to leave him out here alone. When he gets bored he starts to wander around. But don't worry. he can usually get himself out of any trouble that he gets into." 

"I will be more relaxed once we find your friend. What does he look like?" 

"Well, he's around my height, blond, wears black leather. That help?" 

"It is a start", she said as she flew into the air. She felt no need to hide her powers from him any longer. He had already proved he knew about her mutant abilities. He also seemed to know a great amount about what happens at Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning. "I shall look from the air while you search from the ground." 

"Works for me since I can't fly." He turned in the opposite direction than Storm was heading and started to walk. _You better hope that Storm finds you first, buddy. 'Cuz I'm liable to wring your neck._

* * *

Rogue was working on decorating her room. It helped her keep her mind off of what had happened in Antarctica. It kept her mind off of Remy's betrayal. Though it didn't make her exactly happy. Bastion had cleaned out the mansion pretty good. He had taken everything, even Rogue's personal effects like the sweet little mementos she had collected. _Damn you Bastion. Ah come home after havin' my heart ripped out t'find you ripped out the heart of mah home._

Rogue pushed that melancholy little thought out of her head. She didn't need to break down into tears right now. _Lord knows if Ah jus' start ta sniffle, Joseph will come chargin' in here ta comfort me._ At first, she had found Joseph's eagerness to help her through this difficult time endearing, but now, she found it most annoying. Some things she wanted to sort out for herself. 

As Rogue worked to make her bed she had an odd feeling that somebody was watching her. She stopped and looked around her room. Maybe Bastion had left survalence devices in the mansion. But as she looked around, she decided that she didn't feel it was like that. She started to turn toward her bedroom door when she saw something drop from the window out of the corner of her eye. _I don't think Joseph and Hank are throwin' anything off of the roof._

She moved to the window and looked toward the ground. She saw a blur of blond and black disappear around the corner. "Look's like we got a Peepin' Tom" , she said as she threw the window open. In the blink of an eye she was outside, flying after whoever had been spying on her. 

* * *

Dakota was walking right by the corner of the mansion when his friend whipped right by him. Dakota stopped and turned around. "Longshot, what are you doing?" 

Longshot skidded to a stop and turned around. "Dakota, I was just looking for you! I was out to see if there had been a change in the team roster or anything, and that might not be the place you want to be standing." 

"What? Why?" 

"All right whoever yah are. Ah don't appreciate yah- OOFF." Rogue plowed right into Dakota's backside. Rogue lost her concentration and her flight became dependent on inertia and gravity. 

Longshot watched as Rogue and Dakota became tangled up and flew a bit farther before falling into a heap of body parts. He took a step towards them when he saw Beast and a silver-haired man look over the edge of the roof. 

Rogue began to untangle herself from whoever she hit. "Uhh, Miss. Could you remove your hand from there before anything else?" Rogue saw where her hand was and blushed severely as she yanked it away. "Thanks." 

"Here. Let me help. I kind of caused this." Rogue felt a pair of hands help hoist her away from the man. She saw Joseph and Hank come floating down from the rooftop in a magnetic bubble. Rogue felt like she wanted to go hide under a rock. She was so embarrassed. Her only hope was that neither of the two had seen where her hand had been. 

"Thanks..._LONGSHOT!_" For a second, Rogue forgot about her embarrassment and hugged her former teammate. She was genuinely happy to see him. It had been awhile since she had seen him, and a lot had happened since then. But she was truly glad to see him. Whenever she was around him, she felt a little happier. She didn't know why, maybe it was his childish innocence or his happy-go-lucky attitude, but she did. Deep inside she hoped he was going to stay with the X-Men awhile; they needed something like him right now. "It's so good to see you. Where's Al-" 

"Did anyone catch the stinger missile that hit me?" Dakota got to his feet with a little help from Joseph and Beast. 

"I do not believe it was a stinger missile. I believe Rogue was whole-heartedly chasing without looking for what was in her path." ,Beast chuckled. Once Dakota was on his feet, Joseph let go and moved away from him. 

"Rogue, are you okay?" ,Joseph asked with loads of concern in his voice. Rogue dismissed him with a wave. 

"Ah'm fine. Bein' well nigh-invulnerable does wonders." She looked over at Dakota who was swaying on his feet a little. "Oh God, Ah'm sorry, Mister-." 

"He's not Mister. He's my friend Dakota" ,Longshot said as he walked over to him. "Don't worry. He'll be fine in a couple of minutes." 

"Lucky, you're concern for me is underwhelming." Longshot looked concerned for a minute. 

"You're not hurt, are you?" 

"Nah. I'm just a little dizzy." Dakota straightened up slightly and stopped swaying so much. "Somebody might want to go find Storm and tell her I found my friend." 

"I'll do it" ,Joseph said as he lifted himself aloft in the air. He flew off in the direction that Storm had gone to search in. 

Dakota watched him leave before turning back towards Rogue and Beast. "While he's getting her why don't we wait in the house. I think all of you X-Men might want to be together when she reads the note from Xavier." 

* * *

As Storm entered the mansion with Joseph following closely behind, she could hear the buzz of conversation. The X-Men along with Dakota sat on the main stairway. The X-Men were asking him questions, and Dakota was trying to answer them to the best of his ability. The buzz died down when Joseph shut the door behind them. Everyone looked at Storm expectantly. She scanned the motley group sitting on the steps. 

"Joseph had told me you had found your friend, Dakota. Yet, he is not here." Storm heard light footsteps come up behind her. 

"He found me Storm." The happy tone it was said in almost made her numb. She knew of only one person who was normally that effervescent. She turned around and looked into the baby blue eyes she had not seen for quite awhile. Longshot held out both of his arms expectantly. Storm did not disappoint him. She hugged her friend tightly. 

"Longshot, it is so good to see you." Storm pulled back from her friend and held him at arms length. "You look as well as ever. But I do not see Alis-" 

"Well" ,Dakota interrupted as he stood up. "I think everyone here's waiting on pins and needles to here what Chu-OOPS, I mean Charles, wrote on that note." 

* * *

Lash looked around at her team. Everyone appeared to be raring to go. Shadow had gone and perched himself up higher on an scaffolding. His rifle was lowered and ready. Psion was checking on Tech as she positioned herself inside Worthington's penthouse with her gadgets at the ready. The Elementals stood in a loose clump behind Lash. They were the cornerstones of the team. Inferno rocked back on her heels. She absently played with a flaming lock of auburn hair. Her blazing green eyes watched not the two marks snuggling closer but the roaring fire next to them. _She's prob'ly thinkin' on how nicely those two'll burn._ Zephyr held himself aloft in the air. The winds under his control whipped his white hair around while his gray eyes sized up his fellow teammates. His job was to carry everyone but Shadow across to the penthouse. It would be a slight strain for him to do it, but he would have to have total concentration to do it. _He just better not drop us, or I'll kill him._ Tsunami rolled a ball of liquid in and out between her fingers. Her deep blue eyes caught her leaders gaze and held it for a minute before popping the water ball between her fingers. She ran her fingers through her damp, blue hair and came out with another water ball which she promptly squeezed and let dribble out between her fingers. _She's ready all right._ Finally, Lash's gaze fell upon the last Elemental: Bracht. Little was known about the person who controlled natural solids like earth and wood, not even what sex s/he was. Lash had a feeling that Bracht was not from this planet, but then s/he could have a mutation that transformed herm so. Bracht had craggy skin that looked like a mountain face as well as no visible hair and a pair of dull, brown eyes. When Bracht moved it was like mountains toppling. _Not a real subtle one. S/he is the biggest strain for Zephyr to move. Weighing around a ton does that._

After seeing everyone ready, Lash pulled one of Tech's little gizmos out of a pocket. She tossed it up to Shadow. "Remember, if we get into serious trouble, use that to get us out then fade into the woodwork." 

"I thought you said we can handle these X-Men" ,Psion said smugly as he walked up beside her. Lash would give anything to be able to wipe the smug look off of his face but she didn't want to draw any attention from the two lovers. 

"We can, mate, especially if you can keep Elizabeth Braddock from sensing we're coming. But I want to be covered if these X-Men pull a miracle out of their asses. I don't want Shadow to have to break us out of any prison." She turned to Zephyr. "Let's go." 

Zephyr lifted everyone off of the rooftop and carefully floated them over to the penthouse. It was a stable ride for everyone except Bracht, who kept dipping then rising back to hish original position. Bracht, meanwhile, kept hish eyes shut the entire ride over. Everyone landed quitely except for Bracht, who Zephyr kept aloft to keep herm from making too much noise. Lash signaled Zephyr to set Bracht down in front of the glass, double doors leading inside. Beads of sweat broke out on Zephyr's forehead as he set Bracht down as quietly as possible. Tsunami tenderly wiped the sweat off of his forehead and created a small ball of sweat in her palm. Bracht slowly looked to Lash for the okay. She nodded as a whip came out of the palm of each hand. 

Bracht, slowly and methodically, pulled back a fist. He swung it forward with a speed that belied hish big bulk. Glass shattered and flew into the penthouse, spraying the interior. Bracht then held back and allowed everyone to get through the doors before s/he plodded inward. 

Battle-hardened instinct had taken over Warren Worthington III and Elizabeth Braddock as the glass shattered inward. They rolled away from each other and came to their feet a good ten feet apart. Many hours in the Danger Room had honed their reactions to fit the situation. A psychic knife materialized from Psylocke's hand. Angel's wings spread as he said, "I don't know who you people are but you picked the wrong time to mess with me. I just want some quiet time with my girlfriend, and I intend to get it!" 

Tsunami and Zephyr were the first people through the double doors and had gotten to halfway across the room when Angel and Psylocke sprang. Zephyr managed to dodge Angel's dive and call up a column of wind to buffet Angel toward the high ceiling. Psylocke, who was surprised that she had not even sensed that these people were near, was a bit luckier than Angel. Tsunami had not moved fast enough, and Psylocke tackled her around the midsection. They both went crashing toward the floor. Psylocke saw two more people rush into the room and drove her psychic knife into Tsunami's head. 

"Is that the best you got, mind-witch?" ,Tsunami spat as she drove her knee into Psylocke's side. Psylocke gasped as the air was driven from her lungs. Psion, who had been protecting Tsunami's mind from Psylocke's knife, gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the effect of the psychic knife from overcoming his protection. Tsunami threw the ball of sweat into Psylocke's face. The ball went up Psylocke's nose and Tsunami controlled it to move down into her windpipe. Instead of gasping for air, Psylocke gasped in the liquid. She began coughing and sputtering. 

Angel, while keenly aware of his own plight, became more concerned with how Betsy was doing. He somehow got out of Zephyr's wind column and swooped down toward Zephyr. _Luckily, I had this place built with a lot of room for me to maneuver around._ As Angel flew by his antagonist, he stuck out his right arm and clotheslined him. Zephyr fell to the floor and Angel wheeled around to make pass to pick up Betsy. 

"Hey Bird-Boy." Inferno had been one of the second pair to come in, and she now stood across the room, in front of the fireplace. "Are you aware that feathered wings like yours are highly flammable?" 

A large column of fire rushed over her and directly at Angel. Angel had been in a position in his maneuver where he could go nowhere but down. He drew his wings in toward his body and dropped. The jet of flame arched hungrily and lapped at the feathers. Angel could smell and feel his wings starting to burn. The flames were hot on his back and started to burn his skin. He plummeted to the floor, unable to stop his descent in any way. 

Before Angel had hit the floor, Shadow had fired three shots into him. Angel felt the sting as a bullet ripped through one of his wings, his arm, and his side. As he hit the floor, the flames lept off of his wings and arched back to the fireplace. The flames passed back over Inferno who was untouched by them. She stood there serenely playing with a small flame in between her thumb and forefinger. She knew that the fight was almost over. 

Lash, the other person of the second pair to enter, snapped both of her whips simultaneously at Psylocke. Both whips hit dead center of her chest. **zzacht.** Both whips discharged the small electrical charge they had been holding. Psylocke flew backward to the middle of the room. She landed hard and fell unconscious. 

Psion walked into the penthouse rubbing his temples. "Make an addition to our file on her. She's more powerful than we give her credit for. I nearly didn't stave off the effects of her psychic knife from Tsunami's mind." 

"You have my pity then, Psion" ,Lash said throatily as she watched Angel writhe in pain. "Bracht, contain these two in a couple of your earthen grasps. Zephyr, Tsunami, help Tech set up the security system for the X-Men." 

The floor rumbled under Lash's feet as Bracht moved into the building. Two hands made of metal, wood, and stone formed out of the floor and clasped Angel and Psylocke. Angel groaned in pain. Psylocke just laid limply. Lash continued to watch Angel writhe in anguish until he was knocked unconscious by Bracht. Lash looked around contentedly. 

"Now, we wait. The X-Men will fall right into our hands." 


	4. Don't Shoot the Messenger!

DISCLAIMER: Standard disclaimer applies. X-Men are Marvel's. Dakota and the Destruction Crew are mine. No money (either way you look at it). Without permission. 

WARNING: Violence. People weak of stomach should not read the last section in this part. The only thing I can say that won't give it away for those who will read it, but all I can say is evil people do evil things. 

And now back to our irregularly scheduled story... 

* * *

The First Step - Part Four  
Beverly McIntyre

Storm warily drew the note out from her pocket. She had noticed Dakota's obvious cover for Longshot when she was just going to inquire after Dazzler. She wanted to find out why, but from the looks the rest of the X-Men gave her, they had not caught it and wanted to hear what was on the note. But Storm would talk to Longshot later about it. Alison's absence did not bode well in Storm's mind. As she smoothed out the note, she looked at each of her team's anxious faces. She could have sworn Sam was going to blow up from anticipation. His face held the features of an excited puppy seeing it's master after a week's absence. _If I prolong this any longer, I may have to ask Logan to go get a mop._ As she brought the note up to read, she noticed that Marrow was not amongst the rest of the team. Some small part of Storm was relieved. It could not quite accept Marrow as part of the team. 

Just as Storm was about to read the note she was interrupted. **brreep**

"Dakota, you're pocket's beeping!" Longshot pointed at the bulge in his friend's pocket. Dakota smiled sheepishly as he pulled a small cellular phone out of the pocket. _brreep_

"Sorry about this." ,Dakota mumbled before he flipped the phone open. "Dakota. Uh-huh. You could say bad timing..." Storm saw his face blanch. 

"Is something wrong?" Dakota told whoever was on the phone to hold on a second before placing his hand over the flat receiver. 

"Is there a room I can side-step into to finish this call?" Storm saw something urgent in his eyes. 

"You can use the room over there" ,she said uncertainly. Dakota murmured a thanks before sticking the phone to his ear and basically dashing into the indicated room. She could hear speak to whomever as he shut the door. 

"Now tell me every minute detail-" Storm looked back at the X-Men. They were not to concerned with the quick departure of the man who had just appeared on their doorstep an hour or so ago. They all seemed to be sitting on pins and needles to hear what Xavier wrote. For some, like Wolverine, it wasn't exactly a pretty sight. Storm decided it was best to not keep them waiting any longer or she might have a minor mutiny on her hands. She cleared her throat and once again tried to read the note. 

"Dakota-Greetings my friend. As you may have already figured out, I am now in the custody of Bastion. This imprisonment is a trying ordeal, but it has given me time to think things over. After much consideration, I want to offer you a temporary position at my school. I need to know that my students will be well taken care of, and I can implicitly trust you to do just that. I believe my students will welcome an 'associate professor' until my return. I also you can teach some of my students many of the things I have neglected or cannot. When you arrive at my school, show this note to Cyclops or Storm. They will help you get accustomed to life at the school. Please, my friend, do this one favor for me. -Charles." 

When Storm had finished the note, the X-Men sat oddly silent. The note had been the first words they had heard from their professor since he had given himself up to federal custody after Onslaught had ravaged New York. The only two people who seemed unaffected were Dr. Reyes and Maggott, both of whom were too new to the team to understand what the note meant to the rest of the team. But both were mindful enough to remain quiet to let the news sink into the hearts of the rest of the team. Finally, the emotionally-heavy silence was broken by Wolverine. 

"So we're supposed to believe this kid was sent up here by Chuck to baby-sit us?" Wolverine looked directly at Longshot for an answer. 

"Logan, he is hardly a child. He appears to be around my age. And from the note it seems that the Professor was genuinely concerned about our well-being," Storm answered. She had seen the look in Longshot's eyes. He truly believed that his friend was up here for a good reason, and he had no way of putting that into words. Storm knew Longshot well enough to know if Longshot believed in someone as much as it appeared he did for Dakota, then Dakota was probably stout of character. Besides, she did not want to see her friend cut apart by Wolverine's reply. Longshot had been away from the team for long enough to not be aware of Wolverine's increasingly erratic tendencies as of lately. Storm did not want either man hurt by whatever was said: Logan for hurting his friend with barbed words or Longshot being hurt by words said by a man he called a friend. 

"The kid's a child to me, 'Ro. 'Sides, no one knows better than Chuck that we can survive without him for a while. We've done it time and time again." Storm gave herself a mental reminder to ask Logan later if he thought she was a child also. 

"I do not see this as a bad thing, Wolverine" ,Joseph started thoughtfully. "It still shows that the Professor is thinking about us and is still concerned with our well-being. Dakota may be a way for Xavier to set his mind at ease. For the Professor's sake, I think we should accept him into our little family." 

"Listen 'Joe', I'd like to set Chuck's mind at ease as much as the rest, but I'm gonna be cautious about letting anyone into our home who just shows up on our doorstep sayin' he was sent by Xavier to lord over us." Out of the corner of her eye, Storm saw Longshot's brows knit together. He was obviously not happy with how Logan had worded things. 

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen" ,Beast said diplomatically. "The primary question should not be the Professor's intentions. First, we should determine if the note is authentic or not. Once we figure out if this note did come from the Xavier's hand, then we can debate over if Dakota should 'baby-sit us' as Logan so eloquently put it. Storm, may I please see the note?" 

"Of course." Storm handed the note to Hank, who sat on the bottom step of the grand staircase. Beast spent a minute looking over the note. 

"This does not appear to be the Professor's handwriting." ,Hank said when he finished his inspection of the note. 

"Of course, it wouldn't be. You're reading my translation of the original note. Dakota had taught me this code and told me that Xavier, him, and me were the only people who knew this code. You didn't think Xavier would have sent a note like this out from under Bastion's nose in plain English? That would have been neat if he did because I wouldn't have had to spend three hours deciphering the note." 

"Ah, you have my pity, my eternally-lucky friend, but would you happen to have the original note that was in Xavier's fair hand?" 

"I have it, Henry." ,Storm said as she pulled the first note Dakota had given to her out of her pocket and handed it to Beast. "Dakota had given this to me to verify Xavier's handwriting." 

After a few minutes of inspecting that note, Hank looked up. "This is indeed the Professor's handwriting, but one fact does not prove a hypothesis. Logan, if you could use your keen olfactory sense to detect the Professor's scent upon the paper." 

Wolverine took the piece of paper and began to sniff it. Storm was oddly hit by a fit of giggles, which she wisely suppressed, at the picture of grown man looking like he was sniffing at a scratch-and-sniff. "This paper's been sanitized and resanitized. There's only six scents on it. Ro's and Hank's are the most recent. **sniff, sniff** Longshot's and Dakota's are the strongest. **sniff, sniff** There's a scent I don't know. **sniff, sniff** But under it all is Chuck's scent. I'd know it anywhere." 

"If'n y'all are so hot an' bothered to figure out if this note is from the Professor, why don't y'all give the note to Longshot. His psycho-whatsit power could tell ya the past of the paper and the feelin's of the people around it." ,Rogue chimed in as she got up off of the stairs. She took the paper from Wolverine's hands as she descended past. She handed the piece of paper to Longshot. "Here ya go, sugah. Work some o' your magic." 

Longshot gently cradled the rumpled piece of paper in his hands. He didn't see a telepath around to monitor him so he wouldn't get a sensory overload from reading the past of the piece of paper. But it looked like something that had to be done to prove his friend was here because of the note. Note for his own reasons as Wolverine had insinuated. Longshot cleared his mind and let the past roll into his mind. 

"I am a sproutling. I can see the sky from between the leaves above my head. I will be big like my neighbors. I will touch the sky with my green fingers. I will grow to be-" His visions abruptly stopped as Rogue took the paper from his hands. 

"Try again. Ya went back a bit too far." She placed the paper back into Longshot's hands. Longshot had hoped to just feel the paper's history around Xavier and not have to consciously guide himself. It took so much out of him to direct the way the past came to him that he wished there was a telepath around to moderate what he was going to do next, but there wasn't one around so, he had to do this the hard way. 

Longshot took a firm grip on the past of the paper and began looking for Xavier amongst the images. There was so much that this little piece of paper had gone through that it was hard for him to moderate the flow of images. Sweat broke out on his brow as he tried not to get swept into the tide of images rushing by. He held onto a tree as the past swirled around him. He felt he was not going to find anything this way and he started to collapse. But before he sank in any further than his knees he saw something. A lonely man in a wheelchair bent over a piece of paper, scribbling out a message. Longshot dove through the images swirling around him. He swam toward the image that he needed to get for his friends. Halfway to it, he felt like his lungs were going to burst and his arms were leaden. Sheer desperation to get to it drove him on. _I'm not going to fail Dakota. He's helped me more than he let's on. I have to start repaying him. I'm not going to fail._ Just when Longshot started to lose cohesion with the paper, when he had driven himself to a point of utter collapse, he fell into a memory. 

"I see a man. He's taking that object that leaks all over me and making patterns all over the front of me. He's worried. He had just come back with the pink-barked man with white leaves growing out of his top. Maybe he should get a better pruner. The peach-barked man waits awhile after the white-leaved man leaves. The peach-barked man has no leaves. It must be Autumn. He comes over to me and starts to make his markings all over me. It feels odd, but I can't stop him so he goes on. After he gets done he folds me into a funny position. After a while the woman with the long, black leaves comes back. I remember her. She brought me to the no-leaf man. She takes me away to another place. I leave behind the sullen, no-leaf man. Maybe he is sad because he has no leaves?" 

Longshot knew that wasn't exactly what his friends were looking for. They were hoping for him to read Xavier through the sheet of paper, but he knew he was close. He couldn't see much anymore. Fatigue was waring him down, but he could feel Xavier near. Blindly, he moved away from the memory to one that felt that it could be what he was looking for. _It'd better... be the right one...I can't... take... much more... of this..._ Luck smiled on its prodigal son as Longshot sank into the past. 

"I'm writing this as fast as I can. I don't know how long I have until Bation comes back to interrogate me some more. I hope the mole can get this out of here. She said she could get this straight to Dakota. I need him to watch over my X-Men. I feel that they are going to need his help soon. I don't know where this feeling comes from. Maybe fatherly intuition. But I need to know that my X-Men have the best looking after them. Dakota can also help those I have forgotten to help. I think Rogue may benefit best from his help. She came so long ago for a problem I have been neglecting to try to solve. Cyclops may not like this intrusion or the history Dakota has with me, but it is time to get Dakota to the X-Men. Bastion has convinced me that there are dark times ahead that will make it absolutely necessary for Dakota to be alongside the X-Men. I trust their abilities, but I feel that will not be enough in the days ahead. I need to know that the X-Men are hands I trust implicitly. The X-Men are my life. I cannot live without them, though they may be able to live without me." 

Longshot sagged as he finished orating what he saw and felt. Storm and Rogue had to catch him by each arm to keep him from collapsing to his knees. The feelings of intense worry and conviction left him as the note slipped out from between his fingers and fluttered lightly to the floor. Longshot hoped he said things right. Sometimes it was just so hard to put the experiences that happen around an object into words. He took a few deep breaths to clear his mind of the errant images floating in front of his eyes. When those images had cleared, he straightened himself out so he could stand on his own two feet. 

"D-did I do okay?" Storm fought back the tears as she looked into his eyes. She knew that his "reading" off of the paper was the truth. The Professor was truly worried about his X-Men and having Dakota at the mansion was what set his mind at ease. In Storm's mind, that was enough reason for the X-Men to welcome Dakota into their midst. 

"You did fine, Longshot. You did fine." Storm looked to the rest of the X-Men. "Longshot cannot lie to us through his reading of the paper's past, and I do not believe that he would lie to us with the translation of the note. We are now back to where we started. Do we follow the Professor's will and welcome Dakota to the mansion? Or do we kindly thank him for the news on the professor and send him on his way?" 

This was not an issue she would force her opinion on. After Zero Tolerance, there was a tenseness in the air that was palpable. If Dakota was going to stay in the mansion with the X-Men, it would be on a concensus of the team. 

"Look. I may be green to this X-Men thing, but I have seen this Dakota guy in action down in Australia. I think he's got somethin' that we need now. He's... I dunno...jus' got somethin' about him. If we're takin' a vote on this, I vote him in." ,Maggott said after a bit of silence. He absently stroked the two mechanical slugs that sat on his knees. 

"The Professah did sound awfully worried 'bout us. It sounded like he knew he wuzn't comin' back f'awhile. If havin' Mr. Dakota here sets the Professah's mind at ease, then I say let him stay. The prof' done so much f'us. Why don't we do this f'him?" ,Cannonball said. 

The rest of the team chimed in their thoughts and most of them leaned toward accepting Dakota. Except Wolverine and Reyes. He still was unconvinced. She didn't really care one way or another. 

"Wolverine," Longshot began slowly. His strength was slowly coming back to him as he spoke. "you're the only one not convinced. I think I can make a deal that Dakota will accept. He wants to make sure that the decision to welcome him here is unanimous. Why don't you give him a trial period? If you could give him a couple of days to see if he should be here, then could you say if you wanted him or not? It would give you a chance to see him in action." 

"That is a wise offer that all of us should partake in, even if we have already voted yay. It would give us all time to see who we have welcomed into our midst." ,Beast said magnanimously. "I say we hold off the true vote until this trial period is over." 

Everyone basically agreed with Hank, and began to get up off of the stairs when the door to the room Dakota was in flew open and the object of discussion came rushing out of the room. He checked over his shoulder once before coming up to the team. His face was a bit paler than it had been when he had gone in. 

"Is there are a problem, Dakota?" Storm had to keep herself from adding a 'Mr.' in front of his name. She remembered about what he had said earlier about adding titles to his name. 

"Oh, yes. In a rather BIG X-Men take care of their own way." 

* * *

While the X-men were discussing his fate with them, Dakota was answering a phone call that put an enormous lead weight in the pit of his stomach. 

"All right. Tell me everything. From the beginning and don't skip a single detail. ... When did this come in? ... THREE HOURS AGO!?! ... Yes, that's a long time. Especially if you're the one being tortured for three hours. ... I don't give a flying shit about the regulations. When the D.C. are rumored to be attacking two X-Men, I want to know immediately. ... Locating my number does not take three hours. It's in BRIGHT yellow numbers above the main switchboard. ... Verifying is a waste of time when the D.C. is involved. ... Look, you pencil-necked, nose-picking geek. You are costing two people their LIVES. I will be sure to tell my brother-in-law, who everybody knows owns Blackhorse Inc., about your competency. ... DON'T even begin to whine to me! I'm not the idiot who had this information sitting in his lap for three hours. I will take care of this mess and deploy the right team. But you better pray to whatever God you believe in, because if I find either of them dead, I'll take it out of your hide." Dakota snapped the phone shut. How was he going to walk out there and tell the people whose trust he was trying to gain that two of their teammates had been captured by a group of lunatics who had a penchant for torturing their hostages. "Shit." 

"Happens" ,came the gutteral voice from behind him. Dakota whirled around to see a pink-skinned, pink-haired young woman with bones jutting out of her body crouching in the shadows. _I know her from somewhere._

"Pardon?" He thought he would go polite with someone who looked like she wouldn't care if she ripped his throat out right now. _Wait a minute. I know her from one of Chuckles' files._

"It happens. Especially to all of the pretties who live in this oversized cardboard box. Can't you hear all of them out there, moaning over the ROUGH life they live out there in the light." 

_Her name's Marrow. A Morlock. Her body produces diamond-hard bones that she uses as weapons. WAITAMINUTE. She's supposed to be dead. Storm ripped out her heart to save a bunch of innocent commuters. What's she doing in the mansion? Am I seeing a ghost or something?_

"Um, excuse me for asking, but what are you?" _Gee, don't I sound stupid._ Unconsciously, his body tensed. He was going to be ready for anything. 

"I'm a Morlock. I'm an ugly little mutant that the pretties forced underground. But I will walk-" 

_I'm going to take my own life into my hands here._

"Y'know," Dakota interrupted. " maybe when two people's lives are not hanging by a little thread, I'll have time to listen to your little diatribe. But now's not the time. Maybe you can just hang around later and I'll listen. I have to go get the X-Men and hopefully stop two murders." 

"You'll listen to me? Then what? Try to convert me into a loving, surface-dwelling freak?" 

_Okay, now I'm getting a little worried._

"No, I'll just listen. You tell me whatever you want, and I'll listen. Sound fair?" Marrow looked a little confused. Obviously, she was expecting a different kind of response from Dakota. _So was I. But that is what came out of my mouth._ Marrow's confusion quickly turned to anger. 

"Don't toy with me, light-dweller." 

"I wasn't." _Where the hell is this coming from? She looks about ready to cut me to little pieces._ Marrow looked like she was about to say something but quickly thought better of it. In one fluid motion she drew out a bone from her side and threw it. Dakota let his instincts move his body. He caught the bone-knife by its handle and returned it back. The bone vibrated next to Marrow's ear as it stuck out of the wall. She looked a little shocked. Then Dakota blinked and she was gone. 

_I've got to tell the X-Men they have ghosts running around the mansion that throw bone-knives that feel awfully real._ When Dakota looked where Marrow had been, he saw a gash in the wall where the bone-knife had sunk in. _Or maybe I should tell them they have a crazed Morlock running around throwing bone-knives at people._

Unsure if it was a wise move, Dakota turned to open the door. He felt relief when he put his hand on the doorknob and didn't feel a anything poking him in the back. _Now here comes the _fun_ part. I get to tell the X-Men that Angel and Psylocke are in mortal danger. Oooh, _lucky_ me._

* * *

"GET OFF! GET OFF! GOOD GOD, GET OFF OF MY WING!" Angel's screams of agony tore Psylocke out of the blackness that had been gently cradling her. His high pitched bellows made her temples throb. Her eyes snapped open to see a petite, Asian woman standing on her lover's charred wing. The woman's brown eyes looked from the scanner she was holding in one hand to a clipboard she was holding in the other. Her black hair was cut in a very butch manner. She also must have had a great sense of balance as she kept her footing on the wing as it tried weakly to knock her off. She seemed to ignore Angel's pleas of agony and continued scanning. 

Psylocke didn't know why she was already on her feet, maybe it was instinct, but it was a dangerous position for the woman standing on Angel's tender wing. Psylocke lunged to kill, but found out after a centimeter of freedom that she was on her feet because she was shackled into that position. She looked down and was shocked to see her feet were IN the floor. When she looked up, her hands were manacled in a sort of stone structure descending from the ceiling. She looked at Angel with hopes that he was in a better situation, but her heart sank when she saw how he was tressed up on the floor. 

The man with wings like a bird was spread-eagled on the floor. Psylocke vaguely remembered something brushing past her while she had rested in the darkness about a vulgar joke about a "Bird-boy" spread-eagled on the floor. But now she got the full gist of the comment and wanted to rip the head off of the woman standing on her lover's wings. 

The woman stepped down from on top Angel's wing and walked past Psylocke. She cast a brief glance at the purple tressed telepath. "The mind-witch is awake" ,she said as she moved onto another security camera. 

"Good mornin', love." The feminine, Australian voice breathed on her neck. "How are we farin' this day? Did ya jus' love that sweet lil' song your lover jus' sang for us?" Psylocke snapped her head back to hopefully break the woman's nose, but all she got was someone grabbing her hair and yanking her head back even farther. "Tsk, tsk. You really shouldn't treat your guests that way, love. It's very inhospitable." 

"I am not your 'love'," Psylocke growled through clenched teeth. 

"Oh yes, you are. I'm jus' gonna love the way you scream in pain. I'm gonna love the way you beg for your's an' your lover's lives." Psylocke tried to ignore the pain in her shoulders and scalp as she tried to reach out to her fellow X-Men. 

"Lash, stop. You're only giving her more will to put behind her telepathic calls for help." Psylocke felt her hair being released and brought her head up. She saw a European man with intense, dark blue eyes watching her. 

"Why? What's the matter, Psion? Can't hold her back?" ,Lash taunted as she stepped behind Psylocke a few steps. A sickening suction noise floated past Betsy's ears. Meanwhile, Psion bristled at the comment. 

"I can hold her back" ,he said tersely. 

"Even with your left lobe tied in a knot?" **crack** Psylocke felt the whip scourge down her back. Her telepathic sending, which had been blocked by some sort of barrier, abated for the merest of seconds, as did her breathing. But once the initial sting of pain was gone, her breathing went back to normal and her telepathic sendings were pushed harder. 

"You're not going to break her. She's a trained ninja. They have training of some sort to keep them from breaking under torture" ,Psion said as he redoubled his telepathic barrier around Psylocke, just to be safe. 

"Who said I wanted to break her? Maybe I jus' want to get my practice whips-" **crack** "-done on her before I move onto her lover." 

"If you so much as touch him," ,Psylocke began through a mask of concentration. "I will-" **crack**

"You'll what? Wiggle around in your bonds?" **crack** "No, you'll call me nasty names. Right?" **CRACK** "No, I got it. You'll jus' stand there an' do nothing." With each stroke of the whip on her back, Psylocke pushed even harder to get past Psion's barrier. She found the barrier moved just slightly after the last whip crack. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. She could feel the blood flowing down her back and the horrendous sting the whip left. She felt the odd sensation as a small trickle of blood raced down the back of her leg. "But y'know, this isn't nearly as fun as it should be. Why don't we take a break and take care of your lover? Inferno, I believe Mr. Worthington has bled enough on his fine carpet. Why don't you take care of his wounds?" 

Psylocke looked down at Angel, whose head lolled in semi-consciousness. He probably wasn't even aware of what was going on. The red-haired woman who had been standing in front of the fire reached into the fireplace and withdrew her hand with a small dancing flame in her palm. She serenely glided over to the bullet wound in Angel's wing. 

"Don' worry none, lad. This won' hurt one bit." Inferno lowered her hand near the wound and the little flame jumped off her hand. It danced upon the pinkened flesh as Angel roared in pain. When the wound had closed the flame lept back into Inferno's palm. She held the little flame up in front of her face. "See, it didn't hurt ye at all." 

Inferno stood up and moved to the nearby gun wound on Angel's arm. Angel was writhing in agony. His precious wing fighting against its bindings. Inferno knelt down next to his arm. Angel rolled his head to the side. He mouthed the word 'no' to her, not finding any voice left in him. She looked him straight in the eyes as she lowered her hand near the wound, and the flame lept upon his wound. Angel found his voice again as he expressed his pain at the top of his lungs. He tried to get his arm free, to bring it near to him to protect it. His bindings held it to the floor and chafed his wrist some more that it bled. The flame lept back into Inferno's palm. She got up and moved to the third and final wound on Angel's side. 

Psylocke watched Angel get tortured more as Inferno knelt down next to his side and let the flame dance upon his gun wound. "I will kill you." Inferno looked up at her at the calm statement and tilted her head to the side. 

"No. Ye probably won't." Inferno turned back to the flame and scooped it up from Angel's writhing form. She placidly walked back to the fireplace and gently set the little jet of flame back into the fire. 

"Do you think this is going to break me, Lash?" ,Psylocke spat. "This only hardens my reserves. I will make you pay for all of this." 

"Hmmm, is that so, love? But you are mistaken on what we're here for. We're not here to torture you and run away. We're not here to break you. We're here to kill you. Actually, I could have had Shadow put a bullet into both of your brains and be done with it, but we want you to suffer. Life is never as easy as a bullet in the back of your head; why should your death be any different?" 

"The X-Men will come. They'll come and free me. Then I'll make you pay for hurting him and me." 

"Oh, you're right. The X-Men _will_ come. Y'see that's what we're waiting for. They will come, and we will be ready." 


	5. Rumble in Soho!

DISCLAIMER: The X-Men are Marvel's, used without permission, and no money is being made by there use in this grand tale. Dakota and the Destruction Crew are mine (Oh, the glory of creation!) 

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I'd get down on my knees and beg for it, but typing and kneeling are hard to do at the same time at my desk. 

**bold** sounds 

_italics_ thoughts 

WARNING: There are people pummeling each other in this part. Nothing incredibly graphic, but I'll warn you anyway (just to cover all of the bases). 

The First Step - Part Five  
Beverly McIntyre

Dakota looked out the windshield of his van, watching Rogue fly the rest of the way to Angel's penthouse with Longshot dangling beneath her. She had carried and flown the van to a distance Dakota had deemed safe from any surveillance the Destruction Crew had set up. Luckily, Storm had created some fog to cover their movements from the everyday commuters. The last thing they needed was people getting into a panic because some people were flying around New York City without the aid of a plane or helicopter. When she had disappeared out of sight, Dakota started the van and drove out of the alley into the current of traffic. As he drove toward Angel's residence, he glanced over her shoulder at the other three occupants of the van. 

Beast and Dr. Reyes were preparing the emptied back of the van as much as they could for incoming wounded. Dakota had left his mattress in the back of the van so Psylocke and Angel wouldn't have to lay on the cold, hard van floor. Dakota had been worried about not enough medical help for the two wounded X-Men with only Beast working, but it had been almost a blessing when Dr. Reyes had come forward and said she had been an ER doctor at Mother of Mercy hospital. _If this is as bad as I think it is, both Psylocke and Angel are going to need a lot of medical attention._ Dakota then glanced over at the hirsute man sitting in the passenger seat. 

Wolverine sat slightly forward in the seat. He was just itching to get to the penthouse already. From the way Dakota had described the tactics of the Destruction Crew as the X-Men unloaded his van, Betsy and Warren were already in a world of hurt. Logan had no other desire than to make those people pay for hurting a couple of his friends. 

Dakota looked back to the road ahead as Dr. Reyes came toward the front of the van. _All I need to do is crash the van on the way to rescue two X-Men and I'll look like a major idiot to these people._ He felt Reyes grab on to the back of his seat to steady herself as he turned a corner. 

"Do you have an idea of what McCoy and I could be facing when we get Psylocke and Angel?" ,Reyes asked as she leaned over his shoulder a bit. 

"Worst case scenario, they're both dead." Dakota heard a low growl come from Wolverine. "But if they're both some where on the side of the living, you can expect whip lashings, severe burns, gashes of all sorts, electrical burns, near-drowning, exposure to the cold, windburn, broken bones, bullet wounds, and anything else they could devise up to torture those two." The growl from Wolverine grew louder as Dakota finished. 

"Is that all?" ,she asked cynically. 

"Last time I checked." Wolverine's eyes burned as he looked over at Dakota. 

"Why don't you quit your yappin' and start drivin'." 

"Why don't you hold your tongue? The Destruction Crew has some sort of surveillance up. No doubt about that. If they see this black van come barrelin' down the road and come to a screeching halt in front of the building, they're gonna know we're here. Once they know that, they kill Angel and Psylocke and wait for us to fall in their trap. if you want to be responsible for two X-Men deaths, I'll speed up." _Okay. I just told Wolverine off. Now all I have to do is wait for his claws to pop into my spleen._

"You just said the worst case scenario is that both of them are dead." Dakota could hear the blood-lust in Wolverine's voice. 

"Worst case isn't necessarily what actually is. If we act on that premise, it'll be our fault those two die right in front of our eyes. That's what the D.C. is going for. They probably want to show off their might before battling by showing that they can kill two X-Men right in front of their teammates." 

"How can you be so sure that is what they intend to do?" ,Beast inquired from the back of the van. Dakota turned another corner and saw his destination. He sped up the van up slightly, feeling himself the need to get there faster. 

"I know how they think. I infiltrated them once. I know how they work together, how Lash likes to pursue her demented portrait of glory, and where their weaknesses are." 

"So, it's your fault they're attacking X-Men." ,Wolverine growled. 

"Hardly. Few people know of my connection to the X-Men. The D.C. aren't among those number." Dakota was fairly sure they didn't know of his connection. They just knew that Blackhorse Inc. would contact the X-Men if there was something its operatives couldn't handle, which hardly ever happened, or was a personal matter for the X-Men to handle. The van rolled to a stop in front of the apartment building. Dakota had to grab Wolverine before he opened up the van door and jumped out of the van. "Whoa, I thought we said no direct action to make the D.C. notice that we're here." 

"You said, bub." 

"Wolverine, if what Dakota has told us about the Destruction Crew is right, he is the authority on what to do here. I think we should follow his lead in this situation." ,Beast said as he came to the front of the van. "If you have a plan, Dakota, now would be the opportune time to share it with us." 

"I hadn't been too sure of how to get Wolverine and Dr. Reyes to the penthouse, but it seems that Longshot's luck has rubbed off on us." Dakota pointed to two window washers who were preparing for a day's work. Dakota reached over and grabbed his baseball cap off of the dashboard. He slipped it on then opened the door. "Wait here. I'll be back." 

* * *

"All right, Beast. How far up the side of the building are Wolverine and Reyes?" Dakota kept his head down so all the security camera in the elevator could see was the top of his baseball cap. He spoke into a Forge-created headcom unit. He, Beast, Storm, and Longshot all had one on. 

"They are half way up. And doing a convincing job of playing the part of window washers, too. But I find it most concerning that if my two X-compatriots are going to be in as bad of shape as you said them to be that I'm sitting down here in the van, twiddling my thumbs." 

"I understand, but Reyes has her forcefields to protect her. You only have your masterful feats of acrobatics." _Oh, no. His vocabulary is rubbing off on me._ "Bouncing around the room is not going to save your hairy hind-end if Inferno sees you. She knows that fur burns nicely." There was silence on his headcom. "Besides, burnt fur smells so awful." 

Dakota heard both Longshot and Beast chuckle. He hoped the levity would ease a small amount of tension. He just hoped that the D.C. weren't listening in. He had bet that Forge's technological genius far outstripped Tech's. 

"Dakota, Rogue and I are in position and waiting for the signal." ,Longshot reported in. 

"As are Cannonball and I." This had been the first time Storm had spoken up since leaving the mansion. Being a leader of the X-Men, she felt an extra burden from two of its members being tortured. Dakota had a feeling that she felt a little responsible for this. She probably had thoughts running through her mind on how she could have prevented this. _You have my pity, Storm. Being a good leader makes you worry like that._

"All right. Beast, how far up is the dynamic duo now?" 

"Approximately three quarters of the way up." 

"Okay I'm going to do my thing here. You flyers wait until you see people start to move toward the door to the foyer where this elevator comes up. Get in there as fast as possible." When Dakota had finished, he pulled off his cap, looked up at the security camera, smiled, and waved cheerily. 

* * *

Things were almost too quiet in the penthouse. There were a couple of window washers starting to work on the side of the building in one of the security monitors. In another one, a man stood in an elevator and waved rather foolishly at the camera. Tech stiffened up at the sight that greeted her on the security monitor in front of her. "Lash, you better come and see this." 

* * *

Rogue held Longshot under his armpits to keep him aloft with her. She was getting rather impatient with this waiting. She wanted nothing more than to swoop into that penthouse and knock a few heads together. Psylocke and Angel were her teammates, her friends, and her family. These Destruction people had picked the wrong people to torture at the wrong time. After her ordeal in Antarctica, she felt a serious need to physically hurt somebody. These villains presented just the opportunity. 

Longshot, who had been squinting through the fog, watched the movement inside. He saw a few people moving toward a door. "Rogue, they're moving. Let's go." 

* * *

Lash had just sent Tech and Bracht to go take care of Dakota by sending the elevator car he was in back down the shaft, unaided by it's cables. She turned around to find Psion standing in front of her. "What d'you want?" 

"Shadow thinks we have a problem. There's a semi-thick fog that just rolled in. He's having trouble seeing in here." Lash knew what this meant. The weather-witch was nearby and getting closer. 

"We have-" **Crash!** The plate-glass windows behind Lash shattered into pieces as Rogue flew straight through it with Longshot holding on to her ankles for dear life. He had grabbed onto her ankles in transit to the penthouse. He knew she wouldn't go through the already smashed double doors. She would make her own entrance. Rogue had actually let go of him once she got to the edge of the roof. She was near-invulnerable, he was decidedly less so. But he knew he had to get into the building sooner rather than later so hitching a ride via Rogue's ankles seemed the best choice. Once she was past the window, he let go and nimbly landed on his feet. 

"Hi, Lash! Long time no see." ,Longshot said as he watched Rogue plow right through both Lash and Psion on her way toward Psylocke and Angel. Rogue didn't get halfway to her teammates when she was thrown back out the opening she had created by a hurricane-force column of air. Rogue went through the opening and made another opening in the building across the street. As luck would have it, Longshot avoided the same fate by lunging toward an oncoming Tsunami. 

Longshot, with a brightly glowing eye, shouldered into Tsunami's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She tumbled to the floor while Longshot managed to remain on his feet. Two throwing spikes came to his hand as he whirled and threw the spikes at Zephyr. The spikes didn't have enough power behind them to get through the defensive updraft that surrounded Zephyr, but they were enough to momentarily distract him and lead to a small decrease in the power of the wind column that was pummeling Rogue. Longshot danced to the side as Tsunami vainly tried to get the air back in her lungs and get a foot into his crotch. 

Zephyr turned to Longshot and called up a second column of air. _Let's see if Mr. Hollowbones can actually fly._ He caught Longshot in the middle of it and lifted him in the air. The column of air carried him to the center of the space between buildings and dissipated. 

Longshot smiled as he just hung there in the air. Zephyr looked shocked. "I do not know who you are, but kindly refrain from dropping my friend from off of buildings." 

Instead of turning around to see who had spoken, Zephyr dropped down in time to see a blond kid streak by his head. The kid continued forward and literally bounced off of Bracht's chest as s/he turned away from the foyer and plodded toward the action. Bracht grabbed Cannonball's feet as he fell away and swung him like a baseball bat once. 

"Pardon me, but ah don't appreciate bein' used as a Louisville slugger." Sam tried to blast out of Bracht's earthen grasp, but found that the thing that looked like a giant pile of rocks in a humanoid form was quite strong and kept hir hold on his ankles. 

Storm brought Longshot back into the penthouse before turning her attention to the white-haired man Cannonball had missed. She called up her own wind column and was just about to bring it to bear on him when white-hot pain flashed across her back. **zzact**

Lash stood behind Storm as the wind-rider stumbled forward and grunted. She started to re-electrify her left-hand whip as she swung her other electrified whip at the X-Men leader. The whip stopped incredibly short of her intended target as it discharged and wrapped around the arm of somebody who had abruptly appeared in front of her. 

"Y'know, sugah. Y'really shouldn't do that." Rogue drew back her fist. Lash's eyes widened. 

Psion pulled himself up to his hands and knees. His head was still ringing from when it had bounced off of the floor. He could feel a small trickle of blood flowing over his top lip. "Ooooh, my head hurts." 

"It'll be the least of your concerns when I get through with you." Psion looked up to see a man in a window washer's outfit with six bone claws extended out of the top of his hands. 

Wolverine slashed down at the kneeling telepath but never quite connected. Instead, he got a faceful of Cannonball's chest. Wolverine was lifted off of his feet and flew back through the broken double doors he had come in from. He hit the ground hard and skidded over to the edge of the roof. 

Cannonball was trying his best to get out of Bracht's grip on his ankles. He tried to modulate his field to make him slippery to hold onto, but his field was nearly maxed out trying to keep Bracht's hold from turning his ankles into jelly. _Gawd, this is embarrassin'!_ ,Sam thought as he fought against being swung at an incoming Reyes. 

Reyes saw the mini-mountain swinging Cannonball at her and dropped to the floor. As Sam swung above her, Reyes scrambled toward a woman with a fiery nimbus surrounding her body that was heading directly towards Angel. As Reyes moved away, she shouted some sage advice at her fellow teammate. "Go limp, hayseed. Stop giving that thing a bat to hit people with." 

Bracht had a problem when hir bat suddenly went limp.. S/he shook the blond kid, trying to get him to straighten back up. S/he was going to put him down, figuring s/he had finally broken him, when Lash flew by and crashed through the swinging door to the kitchen. Bracht got an idea on how to use a limp body. 

"Rogue, take care of Bracht. It's got Cannonball in a bit of a tight spot." Longshot said as he dodged a waterball thrown at him by Tsunami. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bracht trying to use Cannonball like a whip on an oncoming Wolverine. He was brought back to his own problems when the waterball shattered a vase behind him. He looked at Tsunami. "Dakota had said hard water was a pain, but I had no idea." 

The apartment building shook under everyone's feet as the explosive Tech had sent down the elevator shaft exploded. She ducked back into the foyer as pieces of shrapnel from the elevator car shot up. "One down." ,she said as she drew out her modified version of a stun gun. "Couple more to go." 

Zephyr was having a hard time keeping his feet on the ground as he and Storm battled with their wind columns. He was losing rather quickly since his only power was air and wind manipulation and she had lightning bolts and other weather manifestations that were giving her the upper hand. Zephyr heard the crackle of energy from the lightning bolt slightly before it hit him, causing him to black out. 

Inferno had almost gotten to Angel to burn him to cinders when Reyes popped up in front of her. Inferno sent a superheated fireball the doctor's way. She was slightly impressed when Reyes withstood the blast. Rather than attempt that again she switched tactics and sent the fiery aura around her to burn the two hostages. The fire was almost to Angel and Psylocke when a rain cloud appear over it and poured out a deluge to extinguish it. Inferno didn't have much time to worry about that, though. Simultaneously, Reyes swung a fist at the pyrokinetic. 

Rogue flew straight at Bracht, who had given up using Sam as a whip and had just started swinging him wildly at Wolverine. Bracht sensed something was heading toward hir and turned slightly to see what, giving Wolverine a chance to harmlessly rake his claws over the diamond-hard skin. Rogue hit Bracht with every ounce of gusto she had and did the near impossible. She sent hir flying. Bracht flew through the bedroom wall and landed heavily on the bed, breaking the old oak frame into splinters. Hir hands relaxed hir grasp enough on Sam's ankles enough to let him escape. 

Tech rushed into the room and quickly sized up the situation. Rogue had just pasted Bracht. Cannonball was emerging from the bedroom through a hole in the wall, looking slightly shaken. Tsunami was being kept busy and annoyed by Longshot's acrobatic ability. Zephyr looked to be knocked out momentarily. Inferno was having a cat fight with some woman. Psion was trying to escape Storm's wrath. Lash was no where to be seen. Wolverine had seen her and was moving toward her. She looked down at her souped-up stun gun and knew it wouldn't be enough to stop him, but it was all she had right at that moment she wouldn't have time to pull together any other doodad that would be capable of stopping Wolverine. With her heart in her throat, she charged at the six-clawed man brandishing her stun gun as menacingly as her could. 

Wolverine nearly laughed at the young woman running at him with a stun gun. _She's either very brave or very stupid to charge at me with a stun gun._ He slowed up to meet her. She came onto him with full speed. He used a basic flip to send her over his shoulder. As she flew by, she desperately jabbed with her stun gun. She managed to stick it into his shoulder. When the stun gun connected with Wolverine's body, Logan felt like all of his nerves were on fire. 

Storm was distracted from her pursuit of Psion from her teammate's scream of rage and agony. So far, Psion had offered little to no fight. He had been basically cringing and running. Storm felt confident that he was not a threat. She turned to go help her friend when she saw Dakota stumble in from the foyer. He looked bruised and a little burnt but otherwise fine. 

Shadow cursed at the fog. He couldn't see into the penthouse. If he shot through this he could very well hit one of his teammates. He decided to wait a little while longer before just shooting into the penthouse. He just hoped that he didn't hit any of his teammates or he'd get some very harsh discipline from Lash. 

As Dakota entered the penthouse in a less than grand manner, the fighting momentarily stopped. He looked around at everyone. "What? Haven't you seen a guy who's just narrowly escaped being blown up in a elevator car before?" 

Tsunami looked at Dakota and let out a scream of rage. She had sworn she would kill if given the chance. He had seriously hurt Zephyr when escaping from the D.C. once it had been found that he was a mole. She was going to make him pay. 

Of course, in her rage induced state, Tsunami had forgotten about Longshot. As she tried to move past him, he made a lucky punch to a vital area that dropped her into unconsciousness. Longshot looked over at his friend inquisitively. Dakota shrugged. "Sometimes, I just have that effect on people." 

Reyes took Inferno's momentary distraction and used it well. She landed a wicked right cross on the red-head's chin. Inferno fell to the floor and didn't get up. 

Sam blasted right toward Psion. Given the choice of knocking out Tech or the telepath, he would sooner hit a man than the girl who looked to be just a bit older than his sister Paige. Sam moved by Psion with his fists extended and clipped the telepath on the chin. Psion spun around once then sank to the floor. 

Tech looked extremely scared as Wolverine turned around to face her. He reached down and grabbed the front of her shirt. He hauled her to her feet. _He's going to slice me into little pieces. I know it._ He drew his hand back. Tech's eyes were riveted to the three, foot-long claws. **snikt** Wolverine jackhammered his fist into her face, expelling some of the pent up rage he had toward these people and what they did to two of his friends. When he stopped and let go of her, she slumped to the floor, her face a bloody mess. He moved away from her, popping his claws out so he could cut his half-conscious friends free. 

Rogue emerged from the hole in the wall that led to the bedroom, Bracht unconscious in the middle of the room. 

Reyes looked at the two X-Men and gasped. Those two had been savaged by the Destruction Crew. She didn't know if her medical ability could treat all of their wounds. 

Dakota looked over at Angel and Psylocke and felt his stomach rise. The D.C. had been particularly merciless. Angel was burnt on his wings, side, arm, and soles of his feet. He had a few whip marks across his torso with many more gashes covering his body. Psylocke had a raw and bloody back from Lash's handiwork; she was nearly blue and shivering. _Tsunami and Zephyr were trying their exposure trick again. Only this time Psylocke didn't stand up to it as well as I did._ Dakota looked away before he saw anymore of the two. He spoke quietly into his headcom unit. 

"Beast, you'd better get up here." He looked over at Longshot, who looked almost physically ill by the sight of the two X-Men as Rogue helped Wolverine get Betsy down. "Longshot, get a head count. Let's see if any of the D.C. is missing." His friend nodded and moved off quickly, glad to have something to do that took his mind off of the condition his friends were in. 

"What kind of monsters could do that?" ,Storm asked as she stood apart from the rest of the team as they tried to get Betsy's feet out of the floor and unshackle Angel from the floor. 

"The kind that go to hell" ,Dakota replied softly. Storm looked over at him with eyes filled with sadness. "Um, let's round up them up. Afterwards, I'll go get someone to go lock these people away." 

They both moved to get the Destruction Crew bound up for the authorities when Longshot came running out of the kitchen. 

"Dakota! Shadow's not here!" Dakota quickly looked around at the shadows but quickly dismissed the idea that the assassin would be in the building. Shadow was a sniper which means he would be sitting on a rooftop somewhere sighting them up. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a faint flash through Storm's slowly dissipating fog. 

Shadow saw a white-haired, African woman standing right across from him. _Well, thank God this fog is finally liftin'._ He sighted her in his scope but saw something else that disturbed him. The rest of his team was down and out. _Got time for one shot and then I'm 'portin' us back to base._ Shadow closed one eye and squeezed the trigger. 

"Storm, look out!" Dakota shoved Storm out of the way in time to feel the bullet enter his own body. He felt the bullet get halfway through his abdomen before exploding, sending bits of shrapnel throughout his body. 

Longshot saw his friend push Storm to the ground and stumble backwards. Dakota swayed on his feet for a second, looking down at his stomach. "Shit" was all he said before collapsing to the floor. 


	6. That Really Has to Hurt

DISCLAIMER: Refer to any of the first five parts for the disclaimer. 

**bold** action sound 

_italics_ I know what you're thinking 

* * *

The First Step - Part 6  
Beverly McIntyre

"NO!" Longshot threw two throwing spikes out the double doors at Shadow. Luck got the spikes out the doors and across to the scaffolding. But luck has no sway over time. Shadow had pushed the button to the teleporter an instant before Longshot had released the projectiles and disappeared just before the spikes would have reached him. Around the apartment, the rest of the Destruction Crew vanished with a low whine and a swirl of golden light. Longshot paid them no heed as he knelt down next to his friend's side. He stripped off his leather jacket, leaving him in a plain, white t-shirt. He looked down at his friend as he carefully placed his jacket under his friend's head and stripped off his t-shirt. He folded the shirt slightly and placed it over the bullet wound. He slowly applied pressure to the wound to help slow the flow of blood that was welling out of the wound. "Dakota, don't move. We'll take care of you." 

Storm looked at the man who had just saved her life in shock. His face was pinched in agony. She could see as he breathed through clenched teeth that traces of blood started to fleck out of his mouth. _Goddess, the bullet must have hit a lung!_ She crawled over and knelt next to him, feeling so powerless. This was probably the best place for her to be, offering a little comfort to the man who appeared to be fatally wounded. If she had not been there, she would have been looming over Dr. Reyes while she tried to stabilize Angel and Psylocke for transport to the mansion. Rather than distract the doctor who held her compatriots lives in her hands, Storm gently held one of Dakota's hands, meanwhile praying that he was not as near death as he appeared. 

Dr. Reyes was entirely torn. She had three patients and only one pair of hands to take care of them with. It was then that she wished her mutant ability was to make multiple copies of herself instead of her actual protective forcefields. _Where the hell is Beast?_

If in response to Reyes' distressed thoughts, Henry McCoy came bounding into the room, slightly out of breath from having to go up fifteen flights of stairs. He had sprinted up the last three flights of stairs when it became clearly evident over his headcom unit that someone else had been hurt. He skidded to a halt when he saw the scene in front of him. "Oh, my stars and garters." 

Dakota laid on the floor directly across from him with Longshot applying pressure to a bullet wound. Dakota's breathes came out in short rasps. But what appalled him the most was the condition Psylocke and Angel were in. Psylocke's skin was a faint shade of blue, and she shivered uncontrollably. She had gashes across her back. Half of her face was swollen from an obvious beating. Angel's wings were charred black with small ribbons of tender pink flesh showing through. His back was one pulpy mess that was staining the carpet beneath him. 

Beast switched into his professional mode. His mind turned over what should be done. Dakota would have to wait. Angel appeared to be the most critical and would be his top priority. Dr. Reyes would have to handle Psylocke's injuries. Beast moved to Angel's side; Reyes took the visual cue and turned to stabilize Psylocke enough to move her to the mansion. 

"Sam, here. Help Dr. Reyes. Ah think the last thing she needs is me absorbin' her and Betsy. Ah've got more than enough rips in mah outfit t'be a hindrance." Cannonball nodded and knelt down next to the Asian woman as Rogue got up and backed away. She glanced over at Wolverine who was helping Beast with Angel and envied him. She wanted to help her friends, but with everyone in such a small clump, she ran the risk of skin to skin contact, leading to her absorbing any one of them or even all of them. That would put the two lives they had come here to save in more jeopardy than necessary. 

"Storm, take my place. Just hold my shirt right here and apply a little pressure. There, that aught to do it." As Storm took over Longshot's position, he fished in one of Dakota's front jean pockets and pulled out a set of keys. He got up and walked over to Rogue. "Here, get the van ready for them." 

Rogue took the keys from him but looked a little worried. "Isn't the van kinda slow? Warren and Betts look like time is o' the essence for them." 

"It won't be slow with you flying it to the mansion." Rogue nodded, glad to be doing something constructive, and flew off into the rethickening fog. Longshot looked once more at the two X-Men knocking on death's door and sighed. He knew both X-Men were in good hands and there was nothing more he could do for them. He ran back over to his bleeding friend. 

As Longshot knelt opposite of Storm, Dakota slowly opened his eyes. They looked clouded with pain. He tried to sit up. This was no place to be laid out flat on his back. He had to make sure Psylocke and Angel were taken care of. But both Storm and Longshot held him down. 

"Do not get up, Dakota. We have everything well in hand. Just relax." ,Storm said soothingly as she readjusted Longshot's blood-sodden shirt on his wound and went back to applying pressure on the wound. 

* * *

Iceman paced back and forth in the entry hall. every once and while he would nervously glance over at the homemade stretchers made of broom handles and blankets. He had an unnatural worry that they might get up and sneak away when he needed them most. _Cool down, Drake. They'll bring Warren and Betsy back. Just don't know in how good of a shape._ He continued to pace back and forth. 

"Y'know, maat, they'll be back soon and then there'll be no time to worry." Maggott sat on the grand staircase next to Joseph. His two mechanical slugs, Eenie and Meenie, were imitating Bobby at his feet, going back and forth and covering the bottom two steps with a thick layer of slime. Joseph looked down at the two slugs and the slime-covered steps in disgust. 

"Could you make them stop that?" The silver-haired man gestured down the slimy stairs. Maggott looked down at the mess his two girls were making. 

"Girls, stop that. The last thing we need is for any of the pretty ladies here to step on that, slip, and break her neck." Both slugs stopped their sojourn of the steps and slid up to Maggott. They slid up his body and perched themselves on either shoulder. 

"You should probably clean that up. Though, I did not know that those things left behind any slime." Maggott didn't know they could either, but he wasn't going to admit that to Joseph. This was the first time that Eenie and Meenie had ever left a slime trail behind. Normally, they were exceptionally clean, almost to the point of sterilization. This behavior made Maggott worry that something was wrong with them. But to Iceman and Joseph, Maggott just got up and jumped over the railing to avoid having to step in the mess provided by his two mechanical companions. He went toward the kitchen where the team had stored most of their cleaning supplies. 

Joseph picked himself up magnetically and floated over beside Iceman, who had stopped pacing and had started looking at the boxes that had been cleared out of Dakota's van. Joseph idly looked at the words scrawled on the sides of the boxes; they were written in some language that he had never seen before. Bobby quickly got bored trying to decipher whatever was written on the boxes and resumed pacing. 

"You'll wear yourself out if you continue to pace like that." ,Joseph commented absently as he set himself down next to a box that was partially open. He did have a weird feeling that he should go through that box, but he was fighting the impulse. _I shouldn't be going through the things of an absolute stranger. I'm not a snoop. But why do I have this odd feeling that there's something in there that I should be looking at._ He started to lean over and peer into the box but snapped back straight when Bobby turned to face him. 

"I should have gone with them. Angel is one of my closest friends. I don't know who this Dakota guy is or why he should be telling us who should go and who should stay. Who asked for his help anyway? The guy just showed up and started giving orders." Joseph listened patiently to Iceman's little rant, every once in awhile casting a glance at the box that taunted him to look through its contents. 

"Are you quite done?" Joseph's clipped tone caught Bobby off-guard. And it angered him a little to hear Mr. Not-Magneto try and put him in his place. "You're fuming over not going. Don't you think I feel the same way. Angel and Psylocke are my teammates as well. I wanted to go with Storm to rescue them, too, but I got stuck here waiting with you." 

"Love you, too, Mags." Joseph ignored Bobby's little slight and continued on. 

"We just have to make do with being as ready as possible for when they come back." Bobby was just about to make an angry retort when he heard Wolverine hollering for some help. Both men in the entry hall rushed to the door. Bobby got there first and flung the door open. He and Joseph rushed out to the van as Cannonball opened up the van's back doors. Beast and Reyes hovered over two prone forms lying slightly still on a mattress. Rogue was disappearing in the distance, flying at top speed back to the penthouse. 

* * *

Once again Iceman was pacing. He had been ordered by both Dr. Reyes and Beast to get out of the way as they furiously worked on Psylocke and Angel, respectively. Joseph had been lucky; he was asked to stay to lend some medical help with his magnetic powers. _All I want to do is be of some help. Sitting here doing nothing is driving me insane._ Bobby glanced over at Maggott, who was just finishing up with his slime removal. Maggott's two mechanical slugs watched him wipe up the last of the slime. _God, those things give me the creeps._ Bobby's thoughts were interrupted by Longshot and Storm rushing into the mansion. Longshot headed straight for the boxes piled up in the entry hall. 

"Storm, find an empty room and make a table or something to lay him out on," Longshot ordered. Storm nodded once and quickly slipped down the left hallway. She pulled open the door to a room halfway down the hall and disappeared inside. 

"Hey, what's going on?" Bobby walked toward Longshot, who rifling through one of the boxes. Bobby stopped in his tracks when he saw Rogue come in through the cradling a deathly pale Dakota in her arms. "What happened to him?" 

Before Rogue could answer, Longshot turned around with a red bottle in his hand. "Rogue, Storm's down the hallway in room. Iceman, make sure Storm's got a table up if not make a nice table out of ice. It might be cold but it should work. Maggott, help me get this stuff ready." 

Longshot ran off toward the kitchen with Maggott nearly on his heels. The two mechanical slugs slid down the steps, without leaving a slime-trail, and followed the two of them at a slower pace. Iceman turned to Rogue but found she was already entering the room Storm had disappeared into. 

"Gee, it would be nice if somebody told me what was going on," Bobby muttered to himself as he scrambled after his teammate. 

* * *

Wolverine and Cannonball were walking down the hallway when Maggott rushed right past them and opened a door. Maggott didn't go in, he just held the door open. Wolverine and Cannonball exchanged glances but quickly had to step to opposite walls as Longshot came barreling between them with a bowl of steaming liquid in his hands. Longshot went right past them and shot into the room whose door Maggott was holding open. Maggott followed him in shortly after. 

Wolverine and Cannonball exchanged another curious glance and headed over to the doorway. When they got there, they realized that both of them had been so worried about Psylocke and Angel that they had forgotten that another person had been hurt. 

Dakota laid on a big piece of wood that was supported by a column of ice. Storm was starting to peel off a makeshift bandage that appeared to be made out of one of Angel's silk shirts. Longshot set down the bowl next to his friend's head and as Storm peeled the bandage away, gently probed the wound with his fingers. Dakota grunted in pain, but Longshot continued to check the wound with his fingers. When he had finished, Longshot had placed four tiny pieces of shrapnel into one of Maggott's cupped hands. Longshot looked around at everyone in the room. 

"Everyone out except Rogue and Wolverine." Storm looked about to protest but thought better of it and left. There was nothing more that she could do in there then be a hindrance. Besides it looked like Longshot knew what he was doing. She led everyone except Rogue out of the room as Longshot turned back to Dakota. 

Wolverine stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He walked to the foot of the makeshift table. _The kid's got a gut wound. That's a slow death. Don't know what Longshot is up to, but from the looks of things, he going to need more than luck to save his friend._

"Wolverine, Rogue, restrain Dakota. When I pour this stuff over his wound he's going to try to get up off the table and run right out of the room." 

"It's gonna hurt that much?" ,Rogue asked as she took up her position at the head of the table and placed her restraining hands on Dakota's shoulders. 

"No, actually it hurts slightly more." Longshot reached into his satchel and pulled out some sort of dried plant. He crumbled it over Dakota's wound. Rogue, rather than watch a man's innards heave as he breathed and make herself very sick to her stomach, tried to get her mind on something else as Longshot prepared to pour the steaming liquid at her elbow onto the wound. 

"Wolvy, Ah thought that Beast and Doc' Reyes would be using ya t' as a walkin' scalpel." 

"They were goin' to but Marrow showed up and gave them some bones that would do the trick." Wolverine grabbed onto Dakota's feet, ready for Longshot to get started already. He would oblige Rogue with conversation, knowing that having a clear view of someone's intestines was not a pleasant sight. 

"Ah thought she said she was never gonna do that again after she helped Scott." _Jus' keep talkin'. It keeps ya from looking down at Dakota's revealed guts._

"She did. But there's something about the way she looks at Warren, almost like devotion. I think that has something to do with why she suddenly reversed her position." 

"Why would she feel that way towards him?" 

"I dunno. But it's something we'll probably find out about sooner or later. Longshot, you ready or what?" Longshot picked up the steaming bowl and looked over at Wolverine. 

"Well, here goes nothing." Longshot's hands trembled slightly as he held the bowl over the wound. If this didn't work he had no idea on any other ways to save his friend's life. He held his breath as he poured the steaming liquid over the wound. 

Wolverine had a little trouble holding down Dakota's feet as the big man tried to kick him off. "You better cut that out, kid. I'm not doin' this for my health." 

Dakota didn't even hear Wolverine's words. His entire world was now the burning pain in his gut. It felt like a wildfire was running rampant through his body. He barely felt the two pairs of restraining hands on his body. He fought against whatever was not letting him get away from the pain. If whatever was holding him down didn't let him go he was going to burn to pieces. 

Rogue had an easier time restraining Dakota then Wolverine did. Of course, being a hundred times stronger than Wolverine helped. She watched as Dakota writhed in pain for a few minutes. He was fighting like a man possessed to break their holds on him. Wolverine already had a bloody nose from when one of the legs he was holding got free of his grasp and kicked him in the face. Wolverine had caught the errant leg and used all of his strength to keep the two legs immobile while grumbling under his breath. 

Dakota continued to fight against Rogue and Wolverine's holds on him for another two minutes. Then suddenly, he abruptly stopped and laid extremely limp. Longshot looked at his two friends with worry in his eyes. They both got the hint that this wasn't supposed to happen and let go of the body. Longshot was about to lean over the body and see if Dakota was still alive when Dakota lept up from the table, vaulted over Wolverine's head, and made it two steps before he crashed into a heap on the floor. 


	7. Lending a Helping Hand

DISCLAIMER: See any of the first five parts for it. 

NOTE:  
_italics_ the mental stuff  
**bold** the action/sounds stuff 

FEEDBACK: I could use a lot more. Send it to bkittle@creighton.edu Please! [Makes those really cute bunny eyes that either make you ashamed or sick to your stomach.] 

* * *

The First Step - Part 7  
Beverly McIntyre

Most of the X-Men were once again sitting on the grand staircase. Each one had a leaden lump sitting in their stomachs. They had all seen the condition that Psylocke and Angel were in when both of them were rushed to the almost ill-prepared rooms. It had been three agonizing hours since Beast, Joseph, Marrow, and Dr. Reyes had disappeared into the rooms and feverishly began to coax life back into their teammates. 

Storm was starting to fear that things were not going well. _Oh, Goddess, just let them live._ She felt as if a white-hot needle was piercing the base of her skull since she had seen the condition that Psylocke and Angel were in. She could not decide if the sensation was raw fear, anger, or a combination of the two. Though it had subsided when she tried to busy herself on Dakota's behalf. It kept her mind off of the possibility of the death of her two friends. But when Longshot had everyone but Rogue and Wolverine vacate the room where his friend now peacefully lay, she had felt the sensation hit her harder than before. 

Now, it was almost unbearable. She wanted to do something. Sitting and waiting were not doing anything to alleviate the burning at the base of her skull. She absently rubbed the back of her neck as she rose from her seat on the steps. She had to do something before she went insane. 

Wolverine looked up at Storm as she rose from her place beside him. It had been two hours since he and Rogue had finished helping Longshot. He knew what the Wind Rider felt. It was a common malady that he felt, too. In fact, every X-Man in the room seemed to be feeling it. They all had to be thinking that they could have done something more. Some, like Bobby, thought they should have gone to the apartment to lend a hand. _Everyone looks like they're a keg o' gun powder jus' waitin' to explode._

Wolverine's thoughts were interrupted by Longshot strolling into the room. He looked almost happy. _I don't know which is more annoyin': his happy-go-lucky attitude or that I actually envy him right now._

"Hi, guys. I just snuck down to the rooms where Beast, Dr. Reyes, and the others were working on Angel." Longshot tried to keep his normal effervescent nature to a dull roar. These people looked just about ready to leap out and tear each other apart, but they seemed to perk up when he said he had been spying on the condition of their teammates. 

"Dr. Reyes was not taking care of Betsy?" Storm's voice carried the smallest hint of fear that something had gone wrong. 

"Nope. Betsy's fine. She was just sleeping when I peeked in. Anyway, Beast and them are crowded into that little room." Longshot shrugged. " They looked like they were finishing up." 

"Indeed, we were," Beast said from the hallway behind him. Longshot turned to see a ragged and weary group enter the room. Dr. Reyes and Beast wore blood-stained, white smocks while Joseph had a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his posture looked fatigued. Marrow was nowhere to be seen. Beast let out a big sigh. "I don't know how much Longshot had seen or told you, but I believe it is incumbent upon me to give a full report on both patients' status. Being as I am extremely tired, I'll be brief. 

"Psylocke is now resting comfortably. In a few days, she should be up and able to move around on her own violation. Aside from any psychological trauma, she will only be left with the deep scarring on her back from numerous lashings from a whip. 

"Warren is a different case. On top of his outwardly wounds, he had a hairline fracture of his left femur. Once we get the appropriate materials, I will put a cast on his leg, and he will be wheelchair-bound for awhile. I won't go over the mile-long list of various other injuries that I have gotten well underhand. But there is one item left to be addressed." Beast paused and there was no denying the sadness in his eyes. "After the extensive injuries to Warren's wings, I believe the only course of action left is... amputation. I believe we would have had a hard time saving his wings even if we still had a fully stocked med-lab. But as we are without any truly sufficient medical facilities, his wings will not survive." 

"Goddess, no," Storm breathed. When Angel had mysteriously regained his original, feathered wings, he had called it a blessing. The loss of the metallic wings given to him by Apocalypse were a reminder of a very dark time for him. When his old wings grew back, Warren had walked around like there was a great weight off of his chest. The loss of his precious wings would nearly destroy Angel's new-found spirit. 

* * *

Dakota had slipped out of the room where he found himself asleep on top of a big piece of plywood supported by a slowly melting ice column. He looked down the hall and saw Beast's broad back as he addressed the X-Men. Dakota quietly shut the door behind him and stealthily moved in the opposite direction. He got to the set of doors that he figured Psylocke and Angel were behind. He picked the one on the left and slipped in. He had to do a few good deeds. 

Angel lay on a pile of blankets in the middle of the room with his wings spread out on some more blankets. _Is everyone in this house going to be sleeping in the dead of winter without a blanket on their bed? Of course, that isn't really a problem with Storm making the weather outside of the mansion Spring-like._ Dakota carefully tip-toed over beside one of the wings and knelt down. He noted exactly how he was removing the bandages from one section as he delicately peeled the bandage away from a tender part of the wing. Dakota paused as Angel stirred slightly, but went back to work unbandaging part of the wing when Angel settled back down. _Looks like Inferno really hurt you bad. This might take a minor miracle._

With a small section of the wing exposed, Dakota looked about the room to find a any object sharp enough to cut skin. He quickly found one at his throat. 

"What are you doing to him?" Dakota recognized Marrow's voice as she brought the bone-dagger closer to his throat. He could feel a small trickle of blood start to run down his neck where the diamond-hard bone purposefully nicked him. 

"Trying to save his wings would be my best guess," he spoke softly so not to wake Angel up and to keep his throat intact. Dakota felt the dagger bite further into his skin. He was starting to get a little nervous. "Uh, if you kill me, he's doesn't have a chance of keeping his wings." 

"If I kill you, you won't have a chance of hurting him any further. Besides, aren't you supposed to be dying with a bullet in your gut?" Marrow sounded as cool as ice and willing to slit his throat at any time. 

"I got better." Dakota was going beyond the point of nervous to irate. His voice went into a harsh whisper. He didn't want the X-Men walking in to see what he was about to do. It just wouldn't look good for him. "Look, it's obvious you're doing a good job of looking out for Angel's well-fare, but if you don't remove that dagger from my throat he's not going to be Angel anymore. He's going to lose his wings if I don't do something." 

"Why are so sure you can do something that McCoy can already do?" 

"Are we seeing the same pair of wings here? Just look at them. There is nothing McCoy or anyone else can do. I'll bet you that McCoy is out there right now with the X-Men telling them that he's going to have to amputate the wings. Now, I can save the wings, but that would require you not slitting my throat." 

Dakota was taking a gamble. It sounded like Marrow was truly concerned about Angel's well-being. If she was, she would have to know how much Angel would hurt if he lost his wings. Dakota's gamble paid off when he felt the dagger removed from under his Adam's apple. 

"I'm watching your every move." Dakota twisted around and easily plucked the dagger out of her hand. She looked at him in angered shock. No one had ever disarmed her so quickly before. Of course, she was not completely disarmed. She reached over her shoulder to grab another dagger out of her back, but she stopped when he drew the dagger across the palm of his hand. 

He set down the dagger next to him and turned back to the hand-sized section of revealed wing. As blood trickled out of the wound he gently placed his hand on the burnt skin. He kept his hand there until he felt the small wound on his palm heal up. He removed his hand and nodded in satisfaction. _One down, one to go._

"Re-bandage this wing while I work on the other one," Dakota quietly ordered as he picked up the bone dagger and moved to the other side of the room. He knelt next to the other wing and carefully began unwrapping part of the bandage. Marrow almost reverently knelt down next to Angel. _Do I dare touch his flesh with my hands?_ With infinite care, she rewrapped the exposed wing, trying hard not to sully his wound with her clumsy hands. 

Dakota was oblivious to the almost pious scene going on across from him. He carefully slit his other palm and placed it on the exposed, blackened skin. He again held his hand on the wing until he felt his palm heal his own wound. He looked up to tell Marrow to finish up this wing while he went next door to take care of Psylocke. Words never quite came to his lips when he saw what she was doing over there. She was still rewrapping his wing with what looked like too much concern. _I'd better do this one myself. My entire point of sneaking in here was to do this before anyone came in to check on him. The way she's moving, it'll be the Fourth of July before she gets done._ Dakota tore his eyes away from Marrow and her tender ministrations and finished the job on that wing. 

_Y'know after some thought, maybe it wasn't a good idea to let a psycho rebandage his wing. I don't think I should leave her alone in here with him._ When Dakota looked back across the room, Marrow was no longer next to Angel. Worried, Dakota glanced around the room. She wasn't anywhere in the room. The only sign that she had exited the room was that the door was slightly open. _Where'd she run off to? Oh, well. Doesn't look like she did anything other than rewrap the wing. I'm just glad that she didn't do anything harmful to Angel. He's suffered enough for awhile. But there was something in the way she looked at him. Almost like he was a truly divine being. Wonder where that came from?_ Dakota rose up from beside Angel and made his way over to the door. He had to take care of one more person before going back to his little room with the plywood and ice. 

* * *

Marrow ran through the tunnels that she called home. She was almost in a state of euphoria. She had touched him. She had touched her angel. She sped onward, her feet lighter than they had been in years. She had touched the one who had sacrificed so much in these tunnels and become a near divinity in the process. If that Native American man had been right, she had just helped save one of the most precious asset of her angel: his wings. 

Marrow sped around the corner and skidded to halt in front of a blood-stained wall. The bloodstain was in the shape of a winged man. Marrow walked up reverently put her hand on the pattern of blood. 

This was where she had first seen Warren Worthington III, who would become her up-world angel of mercy. Many nights she had slept at the foot of this monument, dreaming of meeting her savior who flew in the blue sky. Today, she had fulfilled part of that dream. Though her angel had been hurt, she had helped him. She had met him. For a little while she had been worried that she would never be able to see him fly against an azure sky. But now there was hope. 

Privately, Sarah knelt down in front of the holy icon. She bowed her head reverently and prayed to the spirit of mercy that permeated this small shrine. She prayed for her angel to be able to fly once more across a sky so wide it was boundless. 

* * *

Dakota had just managed to silently close the door behind him and sit down on the table made of wood and ice when the Storm quietly opened the door. She looked slightly shocked to see him sitting on the edge of the table. She gazed at the blood-stained abdomen where no bullet wound could be seen. She looked back up into his eyes. 

"I came to see how you were doing. Longshot had said he had taken good care of you, but I do not understand this." She gestured at where his wound used to be. "When I last saw you, you were near death." 

"What did you think Chuckles sent a human up here to be your assistant professor?" Storm raised an eyebrow. 

"'Chuckles'?" 

"Oh, God. Um, you better not tell him that I called him that in front of you. He'd _kill_ me." Storm tried to keep a small trickle of laughter from bubbling up inside of her. She had a hard time imagining the Professor appreciate being called 'Chuckles.' Storm heard some footsteps behind her and turned to see who it was while trying to keep a straight face. Dr. Reyes came strolling into the room. 

"All right Dakota, you had better appreciate this. I lost the coin toss. So, I get...to see...how your...bullet wound is doing?" Reyes looked at Dakota's healed stomach. "Wait a minute. You're supposed to have a bullet wound in your abdomen. Where'd it go?" 

Reyes came over and probed his rock-hard stomach with her fingers, not quite believing what she was seeing. The only trace that there had been a bullet wound was a circular stain of blood. She began to mumble to herself. "This kind of metabolic healing is amazing. This skin looks totally healthy. No scarring, nothing. It's only been four hours since he got the wound. This is amazing." 

"Well, I've got a pretty amazing metabolism. Anyway," Dakota twisted, and Reyes just waited for his stomach to burst open and blood to start pouring all over the floor. She was mildly surprised that nothing happened. He just swept something into the palm of his hand and turned back to her. "Here. You'd know how to get rid of this better than I would." 

Reyes put her hand out and Dakota poured a small pile of tiny pieces of shrapnel into the palm of her hand. "That's from the specialized bullet that Shadow shot into me. It gets halfway through the body before exploding internally, causing even more damage." 

"That surely would have killed me," Storm observed with some clear shock. 

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute," Reyes started before Dakota could say anything. "Are you saying that these little things were inside of your body?" Dakota nodded. "Then how do you get these out?" 

"My body kind of spit them out." 

"'Spit them out?' What do mean 'spit them out?'" 

"I woke up, and those were all clustered in a pile on top of my stomach." 

"Okay, let me get this straight. Not only does your body heal at a inhuman rate but it also purges foreign objects from it as well." 

"Right." Reyes looked at him in disbelief. 

"Where do I go to get that kind of health insurance?" 

"I don't know. I just picked this up when I was fourteen." Reyes shook her head as she turned and walked out of the room. She obviously didn't need to tend to a patient who was already healthy. As she walked out, she mumbled about having to talk to Beast. 

Storm looked over at Dakota after Reyes left. He was sliding off of the makeshift table. "Is there any other mutant abilities I should be made aware of?" 

"Yeah, I have an-_eep_." 

"An 'eep?' What's an an 'eep?'" Storm knew that it was an exclamation, but she just couldn't resist. The bubble of laughter was still dancing around inside of her. It also relieved some of the shock she was feeling at Dakota's rapid healing and the revelation that she really would have died if he had not jumped in front of the bullet for her. 

"Right now, it's a splinter in my butt." Dakota reached around and plucked a rather large splinter out of his hind-end. He looked at it in mild annoyance before tossing it over his shoulder onto the table. "Damn plywood. Always splinters on the ends," he said as he rubbed the sore spot. Now, it was severely taxing for Storm to keep herself from laughing, but she somehow managed to keep her composure. 

"If you want to, I can call Dr. Reyes back in here." 

"Nah, it's okay. It'll heal in a minute. Now, as I was saying, I also have an im-WAITAMINUTE." He looked at her hopefully. "Why do you need to know about any of my other mutant abilities?" 


	8. Beware the Danger Matress!

DISCLAIMER: See Parts 1-5 for it. (If you really want to read one, I suggest the one on Part Five. It's short and to the point.) 

NOTE:  
_italics_ - That jolly well better be what you're thinking.  
**bold** - I heard that. 

* * *

The First Step - Part 8  
or  
_Welcome Into Our Lives, Dakota. (Just Don't Embarrass Yourself Too Much.)_   
Beverly McIntyre

The sun was hours above the horizon line. Its warm rays filtered into the bubble of warm weather that encapsulated the grounds of Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning. The rays felt warm and refreshing on Dakota's coppery skin. It was a pleasantry that he was all but ignoring at the moment. **grunt**. 

"Hold on, maat. We're caught on something." _Again. If there is a God out there, he is having too much fun at my expense._ Maggott set down his end of the blood-stained mattress. Dakota stopped pulling on his end and let it hang half-way out of his van. He sighed as Maggott once again hopped atop the mattress and found where the corner of one of the built-in shelving units had snagged part of the material. He quickly fixed the problem and hopped off the mattress. He picked up his end just as Dakota picked up his. _There are only two questions I want answered in my life: how the hell did I get this into the van originally and how did McCoy manage to cram it so that the mattress gets snagged on everything._ The mattress moved two inches this time before becoming snagged on a screw that was sticking out. "Stop. We're snagged again." 

Dakota didn't stop. Instead, he pulled harder. His patience had ran out ten minutes ago. _Pull and snag. Stop and wait to fix it. Pull anew. Snag it again. Stop again. Wait while Maggott fixes it again. Well, not anymore. Today, I shall carve out my own destiny. This cursed lender of back support shall not stop me._ The weather had to have gone to his brain. It just wasn't natural to have fifty degree weather at the very end of December. Especially in New York. 

"Maat, I said stop. We snagged on a screw. You're going to-" **RRRIIPP!** The screw rent the side of the mattress open, sending stuffing flying everywhere and springs to grapple with metal shelving. Dakota continued to pull. He was not going to be beat by a simple mattress. It was his van, and he wanted it back. Dakota continued to pull like a man possessed. His van was almost free of the mattress' bloody oppression. Dakota continued to yank and pull while he felt his feet slide out from under him as the mattress finally burst from the van. He toppled to the ground as the mattress flew on top of him. 

Everything went dark. Of course, it should have with a mattress resting nicely on his nose. Dakota tried to move his arms to throw the mattress off, but to his dismay, he found his arms were pinned above his head. _This is not one of my better days_ ,he thought glumly as he heard Maggott's muffled guffaws. He could do nothing but wait for Maggott to get him out. 

It was a few minutes before the mattress was removed. Dakota blinked in the bright sunlight and opened his mouth to make some sarcastic remark to Maggott for his speedy save. Dakota clapped his mouth shut when he realized he was looking into a pair of feminine, green eyes. _Now, I'm totally embarrassed._

"Are you alright?" Rogue tried vainly to keep a straight face. But the corners of her mouth kept twitching upward. Dakota just glowered and picked himself off of the ground. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dakota said as he brushed blades of grass and pieces of mattress fluff from his jeans. He glared over at Maggott who was holding his sides and leaning against the van for support. _At least he's amused._ Dakota sucked in his dignity before turning back to face Rogue. "I guess I should thank you for your...uh...timely save." 

Rogue was starting to lose her battle with laughter. "It's... quite alright. It...was...nothing." She quickly pursed her lips together to try to keep the laughs from spilling out. Dakota looked heavenward. 

"You'd better let it out." 

"Huh?" Rogue was nearly on the verge of letting it out anyway. If she wasn't going to laugh, she had to speak with one syllable words. 

"From the look on your face, I think you're going to explode. Let it out. I don't have time to pick up bits of you all over the grounds. Let it out." And she did. For quite some time actually. It was a gale of laughter at his expense. 

Later on, Dakota would learn that Rogue hadn't had a good laugh in quite some time, which would make him feel better. But as it was, he felt like the royal fool. He just stood there, patiently waiting for her to finish when Maggott started laughing again. He just rolled his eyes. 

"I really should patent this. I'll call it 'The Mattress.' If they don't laugh to death, they're ready for anything." His flippant comment only made Rogue and Maggott laugh harder. After a few more minutes, Dakota walked over to the back of the van and sat down. He scooted back so his feet dangled above the ground and waited for both X-Men to stop. _Hope I have more patience with them than I did with the mattress._

After a couple more minutes, Maggott excused himself to go find a bathroom before he wet himself. As he walked away, Rogue calmed down from gale-force laughter to nearly quiet chuckles. She wiped away some of the tears that were streaming down her face. 

"Ah'm sorry, sugah. Ah really shouldn't have. But it was...it was..." Rogue tried to fight off another round of laughs. 

"Funny," Dakota supplied unenthusiastically. 

"Yeah, that's it. You jus' looked so funny when I peeled that mattress off of ya. Like a deer caught in headlights." Rogue came over and sat down next him. She patted him on the back. She saw he felt none too great about it. "Ya only have to go through five or six more experiences like that ta get truly accepted here." 

"Five or six?" 

"Yeah, I had 'bout four when they finally accepted me. Though, one should have counted for three.. Y'see, one time the women's showers were down f'remodeling an' we ladies had t'use the guys' showers. Well, Ah kinda walked in on Wolverine once. Ah thought Ah was gonna die right there, either from embarrassment or from Wolvie." 

"I assume you didn't die, or I'm talking to a ghost." 

"No, he just told me ta go wait outside an' he'd be done in a minute." Dakota gave a small chuckle and shook his head. Rogue then realized that she had never actually told anybody about that incident. She didn't know why she was telling him about it, but she just hoped that Dakota wouldn't tell anybody else about it. 

"Well, one of my primary goals as 'assistant professor' now shall be to make sure both the men's and women's showers are up and operational at all times. I just won't reveal my reasons why." Rogue smiled in relief. "By the way, my savior in shining, green spandex, there is something I should to tell you." 

"Oh?" 

"Yes, part of the reason why Chu-Xavier asked me to be an 'associate professor' was you." Rogue looked a little confused. "Um, you see, Xavier feels a bit guilty for not spending enough time to help you get your powers under control. He believes I may be able to help you with that." 

Rogue sat there in stunned silence. After everything that had happened recently, was there a ray of hope? Could this stranger help her get her powers under control? Was her dream finally coming true? To be able to touch someone. To actually, physically make skin to skin contact with someone with out absorbing their powers, feelings, and memories. That was what she wanted more than anything else. The power of freedom. 

Dakota sat quietly, watching Rogue digest the bold proclamation. From Xavier's files, he knew how much this meant to her. Once, in a curious mood, Dakota tried not making skin to skin contact with anyone for a month. He barely made it through the month. That was a sensation he never wanted to go through again. After that test, he admired the woman he read so much about in Xavier's files. He knew he was basically a stranger to Rogue, but he honestly wanted to help. 

"When do we start?" Dakota nearly sighed in relief. He'd never been an altruist, but this was the one time he wanted to do something good for someone else. 

"Tomorrow morning if it's not too much trouble. But there is a little proviso." Rogue looked at him skeptically. "I teach you how to control your powers, you protect me from all evil mattresses that come my way." 

"GUYS! GUYS!" ,Longshot shouted as he came running up to the van. He screeched to halt in front of them. He was panting, sorely out of breath. "You gotta... come inside. Something's up... with Warren... and Betsy!" 

* * *

Dakota tried to push through the clump of X-Men standing at the door to the room Angel had been resting in. He knew what was happening without being told, but he had to act surprised when he got there. It would be one thing to tell the X-Men he helped save Angel's wings; it would be entirely another to explain how he did it. _I don't think they would like the part about blood-letting._

When Dakota jostled his way up to the front of the group, he saw a rather strange sight. Dr. Reyes stood to one side with a big sheet of a semi-transparent substance in her hands. It looked a little rumpled and took a minute or two for Dakota to identify. It was the layer of scar tissue that had come off of Psylocke's back. _Well, I know that part worked._ Psylocke, herself, knelt next to Angel, holding his hand and apparently healed from the wounds inflicted by the Destruction Crew. The real strange thing was that Beast was wiping black flakes of burnt skin off of Angel's left wing. From the small section McCoy had already revealed, there was healthy skin underneath. 

_That worked, too. But this is a little fast. Normally, the wounds don't heal up completely like they did on Psylocke or that fast like Angel's wings did. Maybe whatever Longshot poured into my wound accelerated my healing factor. If that's the case, maybe I should've tried to fix Angel's leg while I was at it. Oh well, can't exactly go back and do it now. It's been too long since the infliction of the wounds._

"Unbelievable" was all Dr. Henry McCoy could say as he continued to remove the film of dead, black skin. In all of his studies, he had never seen anything like this. He knew Angel's mutant abilities nearly as well as the back of his hand. Rapid regeneration of nearly dead wings was not part of Warren's make-up. The only explanation that Hank could think of was that Apocalypse's tinkerings with Angel had created some sort of fail-safe mechanism if Angel's wings were seriously injured. And apparently that applied to his natural wings better than his former metallic ones. 

"Hank, what's going on?" Angel sounded a little worried. He had been told by Beast last night that his wings were going to be amputated. Warren had spent the night with nightmares about his wings detaching themselves from his body and leaving him stranded in the middle of an important battle. But from the looks on everybody's faces that some sort of miracle happened. 

"It looks like your wings are here to stay. They've miraculously healed," Beast said as he continued to remove flakes of blackened skin. He abruptly stopped when he uncovered a lone, white feather under a small section. Dakota recognized the spot as where he had placed his hand. "Let me amend that. Your wings have healed and appear to be growing back feathers." 

* * *

Dakota had sank back into the crowd after seeing the relief on Angel's face. He slipped through the crowd and out the front door. He strolled to the van and let out a sigh of relief. He had never used his healing blood in quite such a fashion before. He hadn't known if it would be enough to save Angel's wings. He'd taken a chance it would, and his gamble paid off. 

After the good news, Longshot had smiled knowingly at him. Dakota had just shrugged as he sank back amongst X-Men. Longshot had been smiling a lot since he figured that the medicinal liquid he had poured into Dakota's bullet wound had caused the unusually rapid healing. Longshot knew that his friend would have done something to help Angel and Psylocke once Dakota was able to without blood gushing out of his abdomen. _It wasn't anything big. Right?_ Dakota thought as he bent over to wrestle the mattress back to the side of the driveway. _I only saved some guy's wings._ Later, he could get some help to dispose of the mattress, but for now he would just move it out of the way. He was just starting to make some headway when he felt a presence behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see Storm standing behind him. 

"You move awfully quiet. Y'know that?" Dakota grunted as he dragged his mattress a little farther. He noticed the small trail of stuffing he was leaving behind. Storm had just remained quiet and appeared to be sizing him up. "There a problem?" 

"I guess that we X-Men owe you a debt of thanks." 

"For what?" 

"You gave Angel his wings back." Dakota's back muscles tensed up so quickly, he thought he pulled something. _Well, that's one less secret I have to keep._ Dakota dropped the mattress and turned to face her. 

"A little velcro does wonders. If you don't mind me asking, how did know?" 

"Longshot's smile to you." 

"Oh." 

"I do not know how you did it, but after seeing the light shine in his eyes as you disappeared into the crowd, I know you had something to do with Angel's miraculous recovery." 

"Great." Dakota threw his arms up in mock disgust. "Just great. Now, I have to poke Longshot's eyes out to keep a secret around here." 

Storm gave a small smile. "I shall keep this small secret for you, but know this, I will remember your ability and will call upon you to use it if necessary." 

"If it's necessary, I'll be doing it before you even ask me to. I kinda like you people. You're resilient." He clapped his hands together manically. He looked shiftily from side to side. "That means I've got years to torment you." 

"That also means we have years to torment you back." 

"D'oh. I never saw it in that light. Um, but there is something else I have to ask of you." 

"Such as?" 

"Could you help me get rid of this mattress? I have problems when I try to do it on my own." Storm smiled as she moved to one side of the mattress. She picked up that end as Dakota picked up the other. Dakota sighed as he looked over at her. "Let's just not get this thing snagged on anything. Bad things happen to me if we do." 

~Fin~ 


End file.
